Billionaire's Lady
by MissCatty
Summary: "What would you you do for the ones you love?" It was a simple question, and she'd asked him something similar to that before. He had his lips pressed to her neck, but with the tears streaming out of her pretty dark blues, he had to stop. If only he knew she was there to kill him...and that it was supposed to be a one-sided love.
1. Dawn

**Dawn**

Sunlight poured in through the open balcony doors while a gentle morning breeze danced with the sheer white curtains as it passed through, causing the soft material to flutter towards the standing white, block-heeled sandal that had been carelessly dropped to the floor the night before. Beside the upright shoe, its counterpart laying on its side not too far away, a disarrayed trail of lavish clothing led to the Victorian canopy bed, marking the center line of the room. There was a slight rustling beneath the white, cloudlike comforters on the bed, and then…after a few quiet moments…the sleeping beauty who dozed on her left side rolled away from the edge of the bed and over towards the middle where a pair of dark eyes intensely watched her.

With irises that held an ongoing storm, the right orb forever being struck by lightning curtesy to a jagged scar, he stared at the lovely, fair girl fast asleep before him, wholly captivated by her every movement, not missing the slight movement her starlight white hair did as a few glistening strands fell over her bare shoulder and her bangs shifted faintly against her forehead. Her hands were now resting atop her pillow, a mere few inches away from her face, and consequently to his close proximity to her, one of them was now barely touching his chest, easily breaking through the strong barriers of his muscular body, capturing all of his senses to that one miniscule connection between their skin. When gravity managed to pull a few more strands of her soft, long hair, causing it to fall over her shoulder and across her face, he set his jaw with the slightest display of a frown and moved his large, calloused hand out to brush them away. Once he secured those few escaped strands behind her ear, his hand lingered there, for what others who didn't know him familiarly well could never realize, was abnormally far too long for him to allow gentle physical touch with another human being—even if it was for just a millisecond—before he silently sighed and heaved up out of bed.

After he had showered and groomed himself, he walked out of the bathroom while adjusting his black tie and paused to take a surveillance of his new, yet all too familiar surroundings of the large bedroom that was slowly becoming swallowed up in the morning light. Once his eyes rested on the sleeping girl, whose revealed bare skin seemed to glimmer under the white light, he found his will to move and went to close the sheer curtains of the balcony, all for the sake of shielding what couldn't be kept hidden well alone in daylight, leaving its glass double doors open. He knew she liked the scent and atmosphere the morning breeze brought during this time of year. Checking his watch as he rearranged the white heels nearby, having accidentally kicked one, and placed them somewhere out of the way, he then left for work, leaving only the ghost of his heavy presence through the fresh aroma that filled the room from his shower and light amount of pomade used in his golden hair.

Just before he had departed the cool room, however, he naturally walked over to where the sleeping starlight-haired girl still lay and pressed his lips gently against her temple.

And so, the day had thus officially begun.


	2. Prologue

**So, I've been wanting to publish this story for seriously the past two years. The reason why I never did was because I thought it may be best to focus on writing one story at a time...HA. What a joke. Impossible. Too many ideas inside of my head. **

**Anyhow...the style I write these first and last two chapters will be in this similar format. Starting from the next chapter and onward until the last two, will be the actual story. :) You'll understand in the end.**

**I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**Prologue**

Under the blazing sun that seems to be trying to set the world on fire, a blonde-haired girl, dressed in a two-piece swimsuit with a loose, milky pink tank top and some faded denim shorts over the water attire, now stands in front of the large, infamous mansion she had heard so much about. Sweat is dripping down all along her hairline, creating a mini waterfall of warm droplets, and the top of her feet that aren't shielded by the two small straps to her white flip-flops feel as though they can disintegrate and evaporate right up into thin air. She anxiously grabs the straps to her straw-woven beach tote. Despite her miserable current state, an awed look adorns her melting, red face as she takes in the breathtaking landscape presented before her as if it is a painted work of timeless art. Beyond the golden iron gates which block her path is an enormous botanical garden from heaven itself. This place…

While it is true that the grander things belonging to those in the upper class hardly ever fazes the blonde-haired girl anymore due to her own background carrying such a large heavy price, this place seems to be from a whole other world. The scenery she sees before her appears exactly like something she's only read about from her fantasy books that she loves so very much—all that is missing from this perfect sight is some beautiful, mystical creature—such as a fairy! Which is why she begins to wonder if she has actually passed out from heat exhaustion during her journey here and is dreaming when she sees something sparkle on one of the vibrant flowerbeds… But she knows the truth. Mostly. She knows that every step she has taken up until now is very real. That this most definitely has to be the place her newfound friends and colleagues have been gushing to her all about.

They said this mansion has the grandest, most majestic setup, customarily meant for occasions like this—celebrations, dances, etc.—or in this case, a welcoming swim party. To be more specific, _her _welcoming swim party. It is actually a little embarrassing: The party to officially welcome new "guildmate" and "family member," as well as "friend," Lucy Heartfilia. If this new workplace of hers was a normal business, then hearing those kinds of words to describe her barely budding relationship with everyone a part of this extraordinary organization would've really weirded her out. In fact, even bizarre businesses wouldn't describe her as such. They'd still use words simply such as "coworker" or "colleague." But she was quickly beginning to understand that this was the way they roll, and how they really view one another, the people here at Fairy Tail, her new workplace. Those words that represented care and closeness are just an engraved part of Fairy Tail, or so she had been told. Like a tradition, they had been used ever since the organization had been first founded, and they weren't going to stop using those words any time soon.

_Guildmate. Family. Friend._

To be completely honest, despite how crazy the people of Fairy Tail seem (and freak her out), she loves it. Fairy Tail is truly a genuine place—that much she could tell right off the bat. The comfort she felt just being there with everyone that first day was incredible. She actually felt like she _belonged _there. It was just like home…and speaking of homes. Apparently this large mansion before her is the boss'—no, the present _guild master's _home. And his wife's home, of course. As well as his grandpa's, who apparently had given up his spot (quite early) to his grandson about two years ago. The guild master, his wife, and the grandpa are all powerful influences of Fairy Tail—that much she understands with the way everyone from Fairy Tail talks about them, as well as how much the outside world discusses about them in the newspapers. And all three of these great figures she still has yet to meet. It's been one week since she decided to join Fairy Tail and was accepted into their family, and six days since she received the official invitation for her welcoming swim party.

"So, this is Dreyar Manor…" the blonde-haired girl mumbles, still caught in her daze of the rainbow of colors that lives before her in the many flowers, trees, bushes, stones, mini streams, and decorations that give guidance for nature to reach absolute splendor.

The invitation said to come a little early before the party so that she can meet all three of these important people of Fairy Tail and officially, really, _truly _become a member. Whatever _that_ even means. She was told it was quite simple and nothing to be afraid of. If only her mind could coax the butterflies within her stomach that had woken up from their long slumber the night before back to sleep. No matter how calm she looks on the outside, she is a bundle of nerves on the inside. After all, along with scary, this is actually quite exciting—

The golden iron gates before her suddenly begin to groan with a loud _creak. _When her large brown eyes awaken from the daydream she has been in, she realizes the gates are opening, splitting in half a large symbol of what appears to be a tail of some sort—something she had noticed everyone from Fairy Tail has somewhere remarkably _tattooed_ on them. _Permanently inked into their skin._ No one in this era typically gets tattoos unless they are insane or a part of some underworld business. Yet somehow, deep within her heart, she can't help but want one of her own—to have Fairy Tail's official organization mark on her body somewhere that she can show off proudly. Huh… She really _is_ weird. She's already adjusted her closet to fit Fairy Tail's different dress-style, which was quite revealing and contrary to what is considered "normal"—but she loves their fashion! (Despite how many judgmental stares she has already received on her walk here in her first outfit from Fairy Tail's clothing selection…) And now, here she is, desiring a _tattoo. _

Her father would never have let her step outside of their mansion if he knew how much she was changing…but no. It's not that she is changing. She just could never really be herself in that past life of hers. A frown begins to drag her facial features down as the weight of her ultimate choice to depart from that place leaving behind everything and a letter of farewell surfaces back up like a haunting ghost from a grave. She abruptly slaps her cheeks with both her hands, burying those lonely, dark feelings back underneath her new, brighter life she is now embarking on.

"Well," the voluptuous, blonde-haired girl begins, confidently clenching her hands into fists, "here I come."

And with that, she takes that first step forward. One that countless of others had once done before her time even had begun.

By the time the blonde-haired girl makes it through the serene, floral-scented pathway, accompanied by the flowing water's humming voice, she finds herself standing at the base of the stairs that leads to the already open double doors of Dreyar Manor. With her body still dripping with sweat, as if she is a melting popsicle, she battles with the heat and continues to press forward up the dozen steps before her. The second she arrives to the top, she can feel the cool air that seeps out from the open mouth of the mansion licking at her skin. There's a slight hint of something sweet, fresh, and sensational laced in the cool air, reminding her of the expensive floral perfume her late mother used. The alluring aroma draws her in. Using the back of her hand, she wipes her sweat off as she walks on towards the nice, cool air, sighing in delight as more of it begins to encase her body in a hug. As she enters the grand mansion, peering around at the amazing craftsmanship throughout the mansion's architecture and interior, completely captivated by the floral patterns and carvings of mystical creatures, she nearly walks right into the stout old man who awaits her arrival inside, sitting smack in the center of the white marble floor with the world's largest grin on his face.

"Lucy Heartfilia! I've been waiting for you!" his elderly voice calls out to her gleefully.

"Gah—!" Lucy jumps back, staring down with wide eyes at the partly bald, spiky, white-haired old man, whose hand is raised up in greeting. He is sitting cross-legged on a red cushion before her, on the ground. Purposefully in the center. Aligned with the dangling tip of the sparkling chandelier above them, which the crystalized reflection from the sunlight hitting it somehow creates a halo of petals surrounding him. Perfectly. Wait. She blinks, overlooking the oddness in all of this when it finally clicks in her mind as to why her heart is pounding so fiercely with relief at the moment. However, horror quickly hovers over her very life, threatening her with its claws of premonition of what could have been had this old man not spoken up when he did. She really is grateful.

"I'm so glad you made it here safely," the old man continues saying, standing up with a lively grunt, showing no signs that he knows of his near pancake-future by her very feet. For whatever reason, Lucy can't help but notice how his height doesn't seem to change much from when he was sitting. "My name is Makarov. Makarov Dreyar."

_Dreyar, _Lucy immediately thinks, connecting some dots. While she was told a very brief description of who these three vital people of Fairy Tail are and how they are all connected together, nobody really actually told her _anything_ about them. All they said was that she'd love them and that they were all nice, so she really shouldn't worry about meeting them for the first time—just make sure she doesn't anger any of them. Whatever that means.

In her own knowledge alone, from bits that she managed to pick up from reading the newspapers and small talk from the other members of Fairy Tail, all Lucy knows is that the current boss, Laxus Dreyar, is the youngest billionaire around and someone highly revered in the upper class world, holding an immense amount of power; Laxus' wife, Mirajane, is beyond beauty of any diamond, with the loveliest of voices and demeanors, and cannot be touched (literally); as well as that Fairy Tail, which once used to be run by Makarov Dreyar, another figure highly revered in the upper class world, who once held even more power than Laxus, is an amazing organization that's stopped a lot of worldwide famous criminals. The most infamous case that she remembers hearing about that even had _her_ father talking is the case with DeLustria, three years ago. Lucy isn't sure of the details because a lot of the information relayed in the newspapers were very vague, almost as if they were trying to keep a secret about something—no doubt, this had to be a very private matter, and Laxus has reasons regarding protection—but rumors spread very easily, and the upper class aren't known for having meek tongues. She knows that DeLustria had been a group of notorious underworld gangsters who somehow managed to murder and steal from several billionaires over the past fifty years. She also knows that this case with DeLustria in some way heavily involved Laxus and put his life at risk. It sounds like he may have almost died. This all took place back when Laxus was running his own branched off organization of Fairy Tail, called, Thunder Dragon.

Based off of the puzzle pieces Lucy's managed to put together, Laxus had to have been the next target of DeLustria's, and how they managed to get close to him was by using or implanting someone within his own organization, Thunder Dragon. At least, that's just the theory she had come up with. All she really remembers is that this case was the biggest scandal ever, and news about it didn't stop for a few months straight. There was even an uproar that Laxus had some courtesan he took in and had an affair with who had also been heavily involved in the case. But in the end, nobody ever came out and spoke about it. There wasn't ever any valid proof, and all pictures were ridiculously too blurry. And because Laxus wasn't and still isn't known for his interest in women (despite the outrageous amount the opposite sex seems to swoon and admire him), always having been the serious-all-business type, eventually it was dubbed as a make-believe rumor and the stories moved on. But every now and then, she'll still see small columns about DeLustria and Laxus. And occasionally, this mysterious courtesan.

It was actually unheard news to Lucy when she heard about Mirajane from the members of Fairy Tail. She had never heard about Mirajane until she started personally associating with Fairy Tail.

There really is only so much that Lucy actually knows, and she isn't even sure what parts are true or not.

When it comes to public news about Fairy Tail, the only name ever disclosed is the boss'; for the other members, they are called just that. A "member." There aren't even descriptions about them. The press always is so discreet about it, and she could only guess that it's for identity safety demanded by Fairy Tail. The simple fact that Laxus is married was actually brand new news to Lucy when the people of Fairy Tail told her who she will meet. She knew about Laxus having a grandfather, and how he was the previous predecessor; she remembers occasionally reading about him in the newspaper. But Laxus having a wife was completely a surprise. Surely the big shot of Fairy Tail getting married would've been in the news somewhere, since Laxus held such a high position and wasn't exactly someone who typically had _those_ types of affairs…

Just how much does Fairy Tail keep in the dark? Not that it bothers Lucy, though. She trusts the other guildmates. Also, for someone of Laxus' status and with the kind of job he does have at Fairy Tail, it only made sense for him to keep his personal life protected from outsiders who had no absolute business.

And that protection of identity is just what Lucy wants and needs. With her background ever becoming revealed, there can be trouble…but she is sure she can trust Fairy Tail. They are basically a big family, after all, and more than anything, she wants to believe that and be a part of it. She has always wanted to be a part of it ever since she was little.

Lucy blinks as she continues to stare at the short old man in front of her as her streaming thoughts bring her back to reality. So, Makarov Dreyar. This is….

"I am the third master of Fairy Tail," Makarov proudly says, as if having read her mind. "However, as of two years ago, I have passed on my position to my idiot grandson—"

"'Idiot grandson'?" Lucy can't help but quietly say in shock. "Is that really what you should be calling the person you passed on your position to?" she wonders in the background as Makarov seemingly continues obliviously on despite her comment which unknowingly to her hadn't gone unheard.

"—making him the fourth and current master. Or, if you prefer using nowadays words, he's the 'big shot' around here. In other words, the boss," he states, still wearing that large grin. "But feel free to still call me Master. Every other brat in this guild still does. Not that I mind." He shrugs. "Laxus doesn't like to be called 'Master' anyways. It doesn't suit him much, either," he snorts.

When Makarov finishes his small rant, Lucy is at a loss for words, startled by his straightforwardness. Or maybe it's the fact that she's beginning to realize how surprisingly laidback the previous boss of this organization is? Probably both. Either way, it brings her a little comfort. Maybe she doesn't need to be as nervous as she is to meet Laxus Dreyar.

"Well, now that I think about it, you're right, Lucy," Makarov ponders, catching said girl off-guard.

"Huh? Me?" she confusedly says, pointing to herself. Just to make sure he's talking to her, she dumbly looks around. What is she right about? Has she said something out loud without knowing it?

"To call Laxus an idiot is something of the past now," Makarov says in a thoughtful pose. In response, Lucy gapes on in shock. So he _had_ heard her earlier comment. "Hmm," the old man hums. Then he looks up at Lucy, really for the first time actually looking at her with his dark eyes, and as if suddenly realizing something fantastic, his face takes on an exceptionally delightful expression while his cheeks dust red. "Ooooohhhh! I didn't realize we get to add another beauty to our growing family! We certainly are lucky and blessed!"

_Are those _stars _in his eyes?!_ The blonde-haired girl blinks. Once. Twice. And then her jaw drops, strange amusement twisting up her features. _So his eyes had been closed this whole time?! _"Umm…" she begins, unsure of how to react. What is okay to say? What isn't? It wasn't harassment she just received, right? She doesn't know how to respond. And now, she is beginning to question her own sanity for wanting to join Fair Tail, the organization full of peculiar people who help those asking for it. However, people do always call her weird. And she wants to help people. So maybe this is meant to be. A perfect match.

A small, kind hand suddenly takes grasp of Lucy's right hand. Upon looking down, she finds Makarov holding her hand with an uplifting, reassuring grin on his face. It's an expression that is clearly well-known to his face; raw proof is evident in the etched lines that naturally set themselves around his eyes and mouth. In several ways, it reminds her of a loving father. "Come," he says, picking up the red cushion he had been sitting on and pulls her along to follow him up the grand staircase that is behind him. "It's about time you meet Laxus."

"Laxus?" Lucy repeats, anxiety quickly taking hold of her other hand. She really _is_ going to be meeting that person today, isn't she? Now this might actually be news that her father could be proud of her for…maybe.

"It'll be just a quick interview," Makarov assures. "You'll just be signing some papers to make it official and legal for you to be working as a Fairy Tail member, " he begins to explain, "and then after that, you get to meet my beloved daughter-in-law, Mirajane!" This time, she is sure he has hearts in his eyes. "With her, you'll be able to get your guild mark. And after that, the other members will arrive and the welcoming party will officially start. You'll have the chance to meet everyone a part of this family of ours, and learn what it really means to be a part of Fairy Tail from today onwards."

At this, a warm smile grows on Lucy's face. "Right," she agrees. She knows she's making the right decision to join here. So, today she'll be able to get her tattoo, too?—well, guild mark? The idea thrills her. It seems like the other members of Fairy Tail have different colors, so she probably could choose the color she wants, right? What color should she choose? She looks around at the carvings on the ceiling as she contemplates over it as if she'd find the color she wants there.

"Well, we're here!" Makarov suddenly declares, letting go of her hand.

Lucy blinks. What? She looks around, noticing how they are already in a completely different area, somewhere on the second floor. At the moment, they now stand in front of another pair of wooden double doors, more regular-sized than the larger ones at the front entrance, with white dragon carvings outlining the doors. If she looks to her right, the hallway they now stand in leads to some glass balcony doors, which she presumes leads to the large, roundabout balcony she had seen that encircles the entire house. If she looks to her left, she'll see several doors lining the hallway on the left and balcony railings on the right, with a mirror at the very end which reflects everything beyond it into perspective; near the mirror on the right side of the hallway, there is an opening that leads down another hall, which she can see is the one where the staircase opens up to.

"Are you ready?" Makarov asks.

Lucy looks at the small old man. Then she looks at the doors before them. It is strange to think that beyond these doors is the head leader of this organization, the youngest billionaire around, someone who in fact is actually above her own social status, someone who potentially holds the most power in the world—someone she _actually _will meet. Wait—she really isn't mentally ready for this! She has been too busy thinking about what color she wants her guild mark to be and—

Makarov knocks on the door, shouting: "Laxus! It's the new member, Lucy, who's here to meet you and sign those papers!"

The blonde-haired girl looks over at the old man with alarmed eyes. Her heart is now beginning to pound in her chest, and she looks back at the door with restless anticipation. A second passes by. Followed by another. And another. Lucy quickly begins to fix her hair a little, realizing how this is far from an ideal state for her to be in to actually meet the head boss. She is sweaty, gross, and dressed in her swimsuit!—things she'd probably get fired for in the blink of an eye had this been any other business! When she hears the sound of the doorknob turning, she quickly fixes her poise, allowing her hands to grip tightly onto the straps of her beach tote while she fixes an odd smile on her face.

When both the doors open, a spring green-haired man stands at the center entrance. He is a little taller than Lucy, wears a long, maroon double-breasted coat over a white dress shirt and cravat tie; his pants are black while his boots are white. As Lucy's brown eyes take in the man before her, her eyes are immediately drawn to his left hand where his Fairy Tail emblem is. It is green, like the color of his hair. She looks back up to his face, which is partly covered by bangs that are brushed to the side. Somehow, with the way his facial expression naturally falls, it gives him a mysterious look. Lucy briefly looks down at Makarov, taking in his happy expression. Then she looks back at the man before her.

He doesn't really resemble Makarov, but she supposes people normally don't resemble their grandparents too much anyways.

"Hello, Master," the young man acknowledges, allowing a subtle smile to shift his features. "And it's a pleasure to meet you, Lucy," he says, opening the doors wider and stepping aside to allow them to come in.

"Yes, it's nice to meet you, too," Lucy says with a bright smile, immediately falling into her princess polite-mode out of habit from her past life. She really is overreacting, isn't she? She has nothing to be afraid of! Laxus seems perfectly respectable and easy to talk to. Although, she doesn't doubt he probably has some crazy combat skills.

"Oh, I didn't know you came in for work today, Freed," Makarov says. "You know it's everyone's day off to celebrate Lucy's joining."

Lucy freezes. Wait. _Freed?_

"Well, knowing Laxus was still working this morning, there was no way I could let him do it alone. We're a team, after all," the spring green-haired man—_Freed_—states candidly.

Lucy simply stares at the young man in front of her. This isn't Laxus? Her face immediately begins to heat up. She could've really embarrassed herself had she said the wrong things!—but either way, she is still embarrassed at herself for thinking falsely! She should have known better, too! Of course this isn't Laxus! She has seen his image in the newspapers! What kind of idiot is she? This man before them looks absolutely _nothing _like the stoic, formidable man she has seen so many times making the front headlines.

"You're a really good friend, Freed! But you do know that Laxus is the master now, therefore, it's only natural for him to work on days when everyone else doesn't," Makarov says, folding his arms. His face now takes on a serious look. "Being the master takes a lot of responsibility. It's definitely not something you can ever take a break from. No matter when you're on duty or off, you always remain the master. Like a parent. But, well, that's what it means to be the master here at Fairy Tail."

"Yes, of course," Freed agrees. "And I think Laxus has done a wonderful job being the master. And I believe he'll continue becoming greater."

"Well, I wouldn't have passed on my position if I knew he wasn't ready," Makarov says with a humble sigh.

Throughout the conversation, Lucy becomes distracted by another presence she has sensed in the room. When she turns to look around at their vast surroundings, she finds that it's mainly a large personal office of some sort. All along the walls are large book shelves that hold several books, but mostly they consist of black binders with what appears to be case names and their dates on the spines. In the center of the room is a large, rectangular table with a huge map of Fiore on it; currently, there are little figurines the size of chess pieces on it that mark certain areas. Beyond the table, placed in front of the window wall at the very end of the room is a large, black work desk and chair, and in the chair, there is an immense figure sitting there with his eyes piercing straight through them.

Lucy freezes.

She isn't sure if his intimidating aura is natural or on purpose, but the perceptibly muscular young man who currently resides across the room from them is definitely someone no creature would purposefully mess with. He is dressed formally in a black suit and has a sharp look, with somewhat long blonde hair on the top that is stylized in a wind-blown back look, and if she compares his facial structure to Makarov's, she can actually see the resemblance they share. She definitely couldn't be wrong this time. That striking young man over there—he has to be the current master: _Laxus Dreyar_.

As Lucy's brain involuntarily engrains Laxus' overpowering image inside her head, she can't help but immediately notice the lightning-like scar that strikes through his right eye. Blinking once, she realizes he is now staring at her—_is he glaring or just naturally fierce-looking?_—she quickly tears her gaze away and looks to the ground in submission. With that strong of an existence, there is _no way_ she'd ever forget him. Even if she desperately wants to. He seems too overpowering. If she didn't have Makarov or Freed present with her, this feeling she feels…she isn't sure if she'd be able to last a minute in here. Whoever Laxus' wife is…she definitely has to be an incredible woman. For Lucy, it could never matter how incredibly attractive Laxus is or how much money he makes—she's too scared to approach someone like him, let alone be able to speak to him properly if he was to approach her first. She might just die on the spot. This overwhelming feeling…there is no mistaking it—he is too terrifying. Seeing him once already explains everything she's heard about him.

_But he is loved by everyone in Fairy Tail._ And while she did remember hearing some of the other members saying how scary he could be (as well as "_incredibly_ _cool_," courtesy to that pink-haired boy), he is supposedly pretty kind at heart…right? Maybe this is one of those cases of looks-can-be-deceiving and he is really just a great big teddy bear on the inside...

"Gramps, Freed," comes a low, rumbling voice from the other side of the room.

_Maybe a great big _grizzly _bear is better to say…_

Slowly, Lucy fixes her gaze back onto Laxus when she sees how undeterred Makarov and Freed are to give their attention to the one that requested it. When she looks, she finds Laxus is now standing, and to say the least…he is _huge. _He has to be Heracles' reincarnation. _I take it all back, _she thinks helplessly, lest he has some mind-reading super powers. He is neither teddy bear nor some grizzly bear. He has the makings to bring down Zeus' reign of the skies. And perhaps, maybe he already has achieved that. He does have that lightning bolt scar over his eye that can attest that much.

"I can take it from here," Laxus says.

Lucy's heart stops and she looks at Freed and Makarov. _Don't leave me! _Freed simply nods his head while Makarov gives her a happy smile before leaving the room and closing the doors. _That was fast!_ she frantically thinks. She isn't ready! And now…now she is alone. She swallows. There is nothing to be afraid of—

"Lucy Heartfilia…" Laxus starts, causing Lucy to jump and look over in his direction. The tall, muscular young man is currently picking out a folder from one of the upper, middle sections of the shelves on the left side of the room. "Right?" he questions, glancing over in her direction briefly while he takes out some papers from the folder before putting it away and walking back over to sit in his seat at the large desk.

"Yes!" the blonde-haired girl yelps, who is now nothing but a human-shaped vessel full of fears and jelly.

"If you would, please," he says, indicating to a chair placed in front of his desk, facing him.

"Oh, r-right!" Lucy salutes, rushing over to take a seat on the black-cushioned chair. At this close proximity, she can now smell the light scent of musk and pomade.

Laxus silently sorts through the papers as Lucy squirms in her seat, pulling down her denim shorts. When he is done going through the papers, he straitens them out on the desk and clears his throat. "As you may have already figured out, I am Laxus Dreyar, the current master of Fairy Tail. As you may already have learned, Fairy Tail is more than just people working together to get a job done. Here, we work towards having a bond stronger than teammates—in other words, we're like family. We care about one another, we protect one another, and we trust one another. The job requests you are asked to go on are sometimes simple and easy, while others are dangerous. You will more oftentimes than not work as a pair with another guildmate or in a small group. You are required to get our guild mark imprinted on your body; it serves as a license of sorts and proof of identification. For starters, we're going to set you up to have some of the members train you to help prepare you for the more serious missions. It will be vigorous training and you will have to be sure to put in your own sweat and blood. Do you feel like this is something you can do?"

"Yes!" Lucy says, a little too eagerly for her liking. Is she a kid? She knows her face looks like a tomato now.

A small, vague smile softens Laxus' features. After the blonde-haired girl blinks, just to reassure her eyesight is true, there is no denying that her new boss is smiling. Even though it is just a little, his relaxed face helps boost Lucy's confidence in believing that everything will be okay and that she can make it through this with flying colors. She almost even begins to question what she is so afraid of. _Almost. _She still feels incredibly nervous. _Her heart_...how many beats can pound in one single second?

"All right. Then let's start this. So these documents here…" Laxus begins, and so the process to becoming an official member of Fairy Tail continues.

It isn't long before Lucy steps out of Laxus' office, smiling and heart still pounding in her chest. Her legs are slightly trembling. All Laxus went over with her were the basics every company normally goes over before hiring a new employee, requiring them to sign some papers and show legal proof of their identity, along with going over personal privacy information and the few extra laws the government is flexible with when it comes to Fairy Tail and how it's absolutely essential for members to have Fairy Tail's guild mark. For security purposes, members must be willing to get the tattoo, and they must go through this entire process of meeting with all three vital members of Fairy Tail in order for validation of becoming an actual member. Apparently, the tattoo works as an ID badge as well as eligibility to have the "limitless" boundaries granted to Fairy Tail, and the ink and design they use here is special; therefore, one can't get away with fraudulence.

Lucy sighs, exhaling out his presence from her system. She survived! Now all that's left is meeting with Laxus' wife and getting her tattoo…or so Laxus had instructed for her to do. After having heard so much about Laxus' wife, Lucy really does want to meet her—she even looks forward to it. Everyone seems to love her, and she wants to know what kind of woman it takes to match Laxus' wave length. Lucy blinks. Laxus had said that Freed would be awaiting for her out here…

"Lucy," comes Freed's voice from her left. That's the direction where the hallway leads to the glass balcony doors. Looking over in that direction, she finds the spring green-haired young man. "How did it go?" he asks.

"It was a little scary, to be honest," Lucy confesses. "But it went really well!" she exclaims happily. Now that she is free from that intense atmosphere, she feels all giddy. She did loosen up at the end once she realized Laxus may actually be just as nice as everyone had said. But that didn't calm her nerves. He definitely is an intimidating person, but she supposes that's what makes him pretty amazing. To have such an aura…it certainly has its upsides. However, it has plenty of downsides, too. She isn't sure if she'd ever be able to feel comfortable around him. Perhaps over time, she will.

"That's great," Freed grins. "Now, I shall take you to the lovely Mirajane. You're now on your way to finishing the process to becoming an official member of Fairy Tail." He steps to the side, inviting Lucy to walk beside him before he begins to guide her further down the hallway, towards the balcony.

Lucy complies, still finding it hard to believe that she actually made it through that meeting with the master of Fairy Tail, Laxus. "Ah, my legs feel like jelly now," she lightly laughs. "Man, Laxus sure is intense. I really thought my heart would burst out of my chest!" she laughs uneasily with a hand over her chest. Her heart is returning to its natural rhythm.

"Really?" Freed asks, appearing confused as he watches her flustered movements to express herself. "How funny. I don't think Laxus is that intense at all."

"Of course not," the blonde mutters off to the side with a grim smile.

"Believe it or not," Freed begins, "he used to not be this mellow. Laxus. He's changed quite a bit from the way he used to be a few years ago..."

"No way," Lucy gawks. _That _was_ mellow? _"You mean to tell me…"

"Yes," Freed confirms. "If you think Laxus is intense now, then he was a thousand times worse back then. Enough to the point to where you probably would've died. The way he is now…I couldn't have seen any better development than this. And I used to think the way Laxus was back then was the best version of him there was, even though I, one of his closest friends, feared him just as much as everyone else did..." Freed's face becomes solemn, as if his heart has started to ache. "One of the only two people who could stand with him on normal grounds back then and not quake in his presence was his grandfather, our previous master," he states. "The other one...took us all completely by surprise. She was…well…is…" He grows quiet.

"'She'?" Lucy questions—_is it _her, _Mirajane?_ Her eyebrows furrow and she wants to ask further about it, but she has a feeling Freed isn't quite done speaking, so she remains quiet and simply follows him.

As they approach the balcony doors, Freed opens both doors, guiding Lucy out onto the large, white cement balcony platform with rainbow, glittery floral patterns carved delicately into its surface. The second they walk outside the mansion, it feels as if they have not walked into the outside world, but into a sauna. Lucy brings her hand up to shade her eyes from the bright sun. There's a slight hint of a floral smell in the air, and it almost makes her wonder if the carved flowers below them are the source of it.

"A few years back, Laxus was completely unstoppable," Freed starts to say in all seriousness. "He was strong, courageous, brave, and undefeatable." He pauses, and his facial expression falls a little. "He was also ruthless, harsh, and feared among everyone, even those who should've had seniority over him. As you may have heard or been aware of, he became the world's youngest billionaire at the age of nineteen," he explains while walking over towards the smooth white cement railing. "Naturally, he would've eventually become rich with old money, but back then, his only aim was for ultimate greatness. He wanted to become something like a god and only listened to those who stood on the same ground as him, which was few. Nothing and no one could deter him from that path for a while. And while I admit it may not have been in the best way…he really was amazing. He managed to build himself up all on his own, and before we all knew it, he had become Fairy Tail's strongest member, as well as incredibly prosperous..."

"But…?" Lucy goes on, slowly coming up beside Freed, sensing there was a downfall. In all the stories she's read, there always is a loss hidden among great success somewhere. Plus, she knew...because she's witnessed it herself.

"But…" Freed nods his head, taking on another serious expression. "Despite all that, Master didn't think he was ready to take the position yet—he said there was one thing Laxus still didn't understand—something that's critical to know in order to become Fairy Tail's guild master and sole protector. And that's when the issue over the renowned gangster group, one I'm sure you've heard of, DeLustria, arose. Everyone knows _of_ the story...but not all of it. Because that was when he met _her_."

_Her. _Is that Mirajane?—_or_… Lucy's eyes widen a little. _That rumored courtesan?_ This courtesan... No, that's silly. How did Laxus even meet Mirajane? Was she from Fiore? Who is Laxus' wife? Who exactly _is_ Mirajane to Laxus? _Gah!—_she isn't sure about anything anymore! Despite how many good things she's heard about Mirajane, could it be that maybe...?

Lucy understood this well in the upper-class world: Not every marriage is out of love. And back then, after DeLustria was overthrown, something the press had suggested was that Laxus actually had fallen for a courtesan; something she knows people would definitely have disgraced him for. In the upper-class world, men and women normally marry those who match their same status, and it isn't necessarily all because it is out of love. They need a successor and to improve their status, and what could happen to their reputation if they fall for anyone lower than themselves? Upper-class people aren't always graceful people. Sometimes, marriage is just a cover-up to hide their secret affairs. As much as everyone in the upper class tries to ignore it, for it is taboo, they all know infidelity isn't uncommon.

Lust. Greed. The two went hand in hand, wreaking havoc. And once brought together, the sin they bear is almost inescapable. A man's lust…a woman's greed…it sounds terrifying. While Lucy's never witnessed or lived it, she's heard about it. Lucy stares off in the distance from their view up high. Far off beyond the trees that surrounded the large property, she can see the whole city of Magnolia, and just beyond it, the sparkling ocean.

"After that, for the greater good, Laxus resolved to change without even knowing it," Freed humbly finishes.

_Oh?_ So it was a good thing then? Is she overthinking this? "So…what exactly changed him?" Lucy questions. Her curiosity always speaks for her first, before she can even think about it.

"Love."

Lucy looks over at the young man beside her. Somehow, the answer shocks her. It's almost even a little corny, yet at the same time, it isn't. For some odd reason, hearing that pulls on her heartstrings. There was something so incredibly emotional about it when Freed spoke that one word. Is it pain? Or something so moving that it can make someone cry? She can't tell, and it makes her a little anxious about the truth. What is the story? What if…it's not actually a happy ending? What if…it's a tragedy?

But Freed now has a small smile on his face, and he is looking somewhere else, other than at Magnolia. Or maybe he never was looking at Magnolia to begin with. Lucy follows his gaze, finding that in this large property, there is a huge, decorated swimming pool outlined by lounge chairs and patio tables shaded by large pastel yellow umbrellas. There also appears to be some sort of outdoor stage nearby, as well as a food and drink bar of some sort. The place is all ready for her welcome party with festive lights and balloons. Who decorated it? She can't help but wonder because she's never had something like this done for her before.

Freed chuckles, catching Lucy's attention. "I think we've stalled up here long enough. It's about time you met her," he says. And with that, he guides Lucy down the stairs that lead down to the pool area, but right before the balcony view disappears from her sight as she walks down the stairs, her chocolate brown eyes suddenly catch a glimpse of _her_.

She is a starlight-haired girl, dressed in a strappy white sun dress, wearing a beige, floppy sun hat that has a large white bow tied around the crown with its long ribbons dangling off the edge. She is sitting in one of the nearby lounge chairs surrounding the pool, partly shaded under an umbrella. Without even having seen this girl's face, Lucy already knows. This girl has a very rare beauty. It is one that can haunt you forever.

And even though it is very faint at the moment, she can hear it. Lucy shudders, somehow receiving the chills on such a hot sunny day. A dark, beautiful melody that can shake even the devil's soul...the starlight-haired girl is singing that song.

And little does Lucy know, it is the same song that started it all.

* * *

**Long, I know. Next chapter is where the story officially begins! :D**

**Thanks so so so so much for reading! :)**


	3. Reflections

**1**

* * *

"…Stella, can you hand me those hair pins?"

"…can barely fit my breasts in this…"

"…did you see how he looked at you?"

"…Rosie, help me put this on, please…"

"…did you hear? She's one of the goddesses…"

"…I could never…"

"…they're all swine…"

"…but they give you money…"

"…Mary, aren't you doing Mr. William tonight?"

"…I can't believe you did that…"

"…they're all so easy to lure…"

"…men are monsters…"

She stared at her reflection with large, sapphire blue eyes. All around her, she could hear the chittering voices of every other girl who was getting ready to perform just like herself. Through the dimly lit up vanity mirror that had yellow-hued light bulbs all along the rectangular brim, she could see several of the other girls changing their skimpy outfits to another, more so revealing ensemble than the last. Sequins and expensive jewelry glittered all around her, creating an ocean of sparkles. The air was so thick with the smell of perfume that the room appeared slightly foggy. Or maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her due to too much intoxication from the hypnotizing smell? She wasn't sure.

"Hey, Mirajane, aren't you a Demon?"

The sapphire-eyed girl looked over to her right at the voluptuous girl getting ready beside her who was dressed in a blood red, satin corset with matching underpants and black stockings with straps that attached to the corset. Her long, scarlet hair was tied up in a high ponytail and she was currently reapplying cherry red lipstick to her lips. Since she was a Vampire, the masquerade mask she currently wore was black and lacy with small crystals; it silhouetted a bat with its wings framing her eyes in intricate swirls that had a spiky elegance to it.

"I think they just called for all the Demons to go backstage to get ready," the scarlet-haired girl informed.

"Oh. Really?" Mirajane turned to look around her, and sure enough, the majority of the Demons had already left. She abruptly stood up and reached for the lipstick at her station. Leaning towards the mirror, she uncapped the black container and applied the burgundy cream to her lips. Her wavy, long starlight white hair fell over her delicate shoulders in the process. When she was satisfied with her application, she rubbed her lips together and put the lipstick's cap back on. Looking around, she then found her Demon masquerade mask and put it on. As she fixed her hair, she waved to the scarlet-haired girl before rushing off to backstage.

.

With their lecherous, drunken stares, she emotionlessly performed on stage with the other Demons, making each movement painfully slow and tantalizing. Throughout the large, dimly lit room that casted off dark shades of red, blue, and violet, she could see several dark figures sitting in the booths that surrounded the stage she stood on. This was how those dark figures managed to keep their identity unknown to one another—by keeping this world dark like the Hell it was. For those who didn't belong in the same class, but a whole other one in the underworld with just as much power, if not that, then more, they freely lounged on the cushioned seats directly in front of the stage, silently discussing their dark deeds and deals. Despite how used to it she was to this dark atmosphere, her heart still always pounded in her chest, begging for her to stop. To leave. Telling her she was better than this…but what could she do? She was desperate. And because of the reason to her desperateness, she was willing to expose herself like this. She was willing to put up with feeling absolutely _disgusted_ with herself. She was willing to feel vulnerable in front of all of these strangers—to all of these _monsters._

She took in a deep breath. The air was filled with alcohol, as usual. Sighing, she closed her eyes and imagined this was all just an overly realistic nightmare. But she knew that in her actual nightmares, they were much more terrifying than the truth she currently had to live. At least here, she had some control.

And so, as the sleazy music continued to play on and her dignity cracked just a little more, the tears she could no longer cry ghosted down her cheeks the rest of the night.

.

"See you Thursday night, Mirajane," the scarlet-haired girl said as she waved goodbye. She no longer was dressed scantily nor had her hair tied up, now donning a navy blue dress and black dress coat, looking exactly as she had when she first arrived the night before at 11:00 P.M.

"Yeah, see you later, Erza!" Mirajane grinned brightly, momentarily waving back before focusing her attention at her reflection in the mirror and continuing to tie her bangs back up out of her face with a small, black bow hair tie. "Get home safely," she added, her smile softening as she glanced over briefly at the departing girl.

A gentle smile formed on Erza's face, and she looked down to the ground. Her hands tightened around the handles to her unnecessarily large black purse she always carried with her. She wasn't content with the situation…but it was what it was. And there was no way either of them would be escaping this reality until someone saved them. For Erza, Mirajane knew she secretly wanted her savior to be a handsome prince in shining armor—someone she could fall in love with and live happily ever after with.

She only hoped Erza's dream would come true. She liked to believe it wasn't that far away from her reach. But in her heart, she knew the unforgiving distance it really was.

"Yeah," Erza softly spoke. "You get home safely, too. I hope your sister gets well soon." And with that said, she walked out of the large dressing room, no longer a Vampire, but an ordinary girl returning to her life of poverty. At least she no longer was homeless or alone and took shelter in her own, personal room. It wasn't an uncommon fate here. Almost all the girls that worked here shared her same lifestyle. For those desperate to live in this world, this place offered a way to earn money and a small room you could dorm in until you could carry your own weight or no longer was eligible to work in this kind of place. Of course, it wasn't all for free. There was a heavy price you had to pay, and it wasn't one you could earn back easily if that was even possible.

Unlike the majority that worked here, however, Mirajane was slightly better off. She already had her own condo space she shared with her siblings, even though it was a fairly tiny, rundown condominium and it wasn't even in a respectable area in this small city; it was located where not even the lower class were, but those beneath that, nearby the red-light district. The only good thing about this was that it made a short travel for her when it came to going or returning from work—but she didn't care about that. She was more concerned with the addicting temptations that could easily ensnare her siblings—more specifically, her younger brother. And while the work she did wasn't the best example to set, it's not like her siblings understood what she meant when she said, "Don't worry, it's just dancing. I'm just acting as a performer." Which that was the truth. For the most part, at least. The only thing wrong was how they interpreted her words, and if she could, she'd like them to only think of it as they imagined it to be for the rest of their lives. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

Because of her and her sibling's circumstance with what happened to their parents at such a young age, the government was willing to give them enough money to make a _somewhat_ decent living off of. To say the least, it was enough to barely get by with the housing payments as groceries to last a week, and maybe—_maybe, _rarely—the occasional new pair of shoes and such. But that didn't change the fact that everyone else with a richer lifestyle, even if it was only slightly better, looked down on them as if they were dirt. And it also didn't change the fact that no matter how much they tried to save, they still really didn't have enough money. Which was why Mirajane was here, willing to work in this kind of place; nowhere else would accept her because of her age and place she came from. And she wasn't working for her own life—she was working for her little brother's and sister's lives. And that was what _really _separated her from everyone else that worked here.

Most of the girls that worked here were either forgotten by their family and friends a long time ago, or they never had one to begin with. Some had been abandoned by their husbands, while others ran away from them. All in all, everyone who worked in this underworld nightclub had nothing. They came here alone. All of them were feral cats, wanting only to survive, willing to do whatever in order to stay alive, even if it meant hurting themselves. After all, here, scars were better than starving and having no place to return to.

Mirajane ran a brush through her soft hair. Her eyes flickered between everything that shared its reflection in the same mirror as her. If she could smash the mirror without cracking her own image and making it fall apart, she would. She wanted all those other things gone from the picture. She wanted to cut them out, as if this were an actual photograph she could physically hold and control what she wanted people to see in it. Once she leaves this building, that's exactly how it would be, though; but the moment she sets foot back in here, everything she's been able to momentarily escape from will reappear. She set her brush down and stood up, trying to get rid of the sparkles that now faintly littered over her black dress. Pursing her lips with disdain, she huffed and grabbed her black purse. She was finally going home.

The walk back to the condo was eerily quiet, yet it didn't make her uncomfortable. She felt perfectly fine walking alone at this hour in the early hours of the next day, or what she often called the devil's hour. Most of the people here liked to refer to this time period as the witching hour, but if they knew what she knew, they'd be calling it the devil's hour, too. The name was a little contradictory, but she truly believed this was the safest hour for people to wander alone by themselves on these perilous streets. Especially considering where she lived and what roads she most often took to get to places. After all, this was the time that the devil should be in the middle of its feast, not on the prowl.

The haunting echoes of glass shattering somewhere off in the distance sounded off, but Mirajane kept walking forward, merely keeping her ears alert for any possible sounds of a monster following her in the dark shadows she couldn't bother to take the time to curiously peer into. That was her first rule for wandering these streets by herself: Don't bother yourself with something that has nothing to do with you; unless initiated with, keep to yourself. It was that simple. From personal experience and hearing every other girl's experience, she knew that was the best rule to follow.

Mirajane sighed as she stared up at the sky. She pursed her lips. There weren't even any stars for her to make a wish upon. All she wanted was for a change—_a miracle_. Something that would end her misery while also giving her younger siblings a better life. She wouldn't even mind marrying an overaged, despicable man and giving herself to him—as long as he had money and was willing to let her use as much as she wanted, she would gracefully accept that imprisoned life. It's not like what she had now was any better, and she couldn't care at all about love, especially when it was nothing more than just a nice fairytale. If it was for her siblings' happiness and wellbeing, she was willing to do anything.

For the rest of her walk home, Mirajane kept her eyes up at the starless sky. She only wanted to see one—just _one _star. If this world was merciful enough, at least let her make one wish.

Unfortunately, however, for the starlight-haired girl, no stars appeared for her and she had to go home carrying her wish close to her heart. It was like a bird trapped in a cage. Oh how badly her wish wanted to fly free…but not tonight. It would have to wait until tomorrow night. And probably the next night. And the next night. And all of the rest of the next nights until her dying breath because this part of town you could never see stars in the sky. The pollution from all the major factories always wafted down to this area, making it impossible to have a clear view up to the heavens. Everyday always seemed to be overcast, and the atmosphere was constantly gray. Just like this bland life of poverty she lived in, and would continue living in for the rest of her life. She would never be able to send her wish off…

Little did Mirajane know, however, was that there were other figures who were willing to grant her wish—but they weren't anything close to that of an ethereal star. They had no light in their souls. They only had a dark green monster tearing its way out of their hearts and grabbing hold of every vain and vital organ in their body in a death grip. _It wanted more. _Through thick cigarette smoke, several pairs of dark eyes had been watching her from a window high up on the top floor to the massive, dark building whose stairwell she had exited out of. They had been waiting for her, and only her, evaluating her. She was the only one out of all the other pathetic girls who had any chance for worth and value. She was quite beautiful, after all—a rare diamond hidden in the rough, whom they have kept hidden from the world for so long…and now, they were going to spend her worth.

She should be honored that they were picking her, and have been planning to for quite some time now; for they had great plans and a starring role for her to play that would make even the devil smile in mirth. Of course, they were going to make arrangements and offer her an amount from their own revenue. It would be like dropping a penny on the ground for them, but they knew how much she probably needed it and that it was worth one thousand times more to her than them. Oh, if only she knew. She didn't know anything about it yet…but she would, soon. Tomorrow night.

.

Mirajane found herself staring at her lovely reflection, once again. Perfume and hairspray floated thickly in the air, lulling her mind into a sickly trance. She pursed her lips. Her little sister wasn't doing too well when she came home last night. It seemed that her sickness was getting worse… _She needed to see a doctor. She needed treatment. _But they didn't have the money for that. With the extra income she brought in from work, it was still hardly enough for them to get by. Which was why she had requested her workplace to give her an extra role, other than Demon. To say "requested," however, was more than an understatement. She _begged. _

Here at the Roxanne _La_ Sanguine, a secret underworld strip club meant for the rich, there were several stage names a performer could go by. The lowest, and most common name was, the Torturers. Under this title were three lesser stage names any girl here could take, which divided them into groups and stage outfits: Demons, Vampires, and Sirens. Mirajane had been a Demon for the past four years, ever since she was fifteen.

As a young teenager, knowing very well about the dangers of this world and the many monsters within it at an age no girl should ever have her innocence taken away so violently, leaving her with red covered hands, Mirajane knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she accepted to become a courtesan—a Demon. That decision was excruciatingly hard enough, but her desperateness for money was at its peak, and she needed to get over her fear of those monsters at some point. She wanted to become stronger. That was around the time her little sister had fallen ill and her little brother began to fall apart. It seemed that as the years went by and her little sister continued to not get proper treatment, her sickness would only keep on getting worse and more worse, until eventually, the malicious hands of the unknown would steel her delicate soul, and her little sister would never open her sky blue eyes again.

The thought always shattered her, and she knew what it was doing to her little brother…which was why she took it upon her shoulders as the oldest sibling to take full responsibility by doing whatever it would take for their younger sister to receive proper treatment. She was going to earn that money somehow…

Because Torturers didn't take clients and were strictly performers, Mirajane didn't make as much money as some of the other girls. She couldn't, for her services only offered visual entertainment, and men were only willing to pay so much money to see a girl who would strip and dance nearly nude for him. Which was where the Goddesses came in, the next stage name above Torturer. Goddesses typically earned a lot more money because their services went beyond visual entertainment, ranging from physical touch to being leased out in a private room. But the Goddesses were limited, with only six possible stage names: Keres, Eris, Selene, Até, Hebe, and Mania. Therefore, that meant that only six luckygirls could be a Goddess and earn more than her life's worth in wage; all six of the Goddesses were almost always busy with a client each night. But they weren't the stars here. There was only room for one star—one queen, among all the rest—and that was the role the stage name Aphrodite had.

Aphrodite was the stage name for one single, very lucky girl, but there were high requirements and demands that had to be met in order to be cast as this role. The girl had to be beyond beautiful, desirable, with looks to match her seductively sweet voice, which was gifted musically. To be able to spend a night with her and do whatever he pleases, a man would have to pay a lot more than the price of having a mere Goddess. This was Aphrodite, after all, the Greek goddess of lust, pleasure, beauty, and love. When on stage, anything could be done to Aphrodite throughout her musical performance by the other performers, which the girls here were no more than willing to do just about anything as long as it earned them extra cash, but the men weren't allowed to touch her like they were with the Goddesses. This rule was set all for the savory possibility of being able to potentially devour such a beautiful, lustful girl, and it acted as a way to tantalize the men, so that they would end up paying the high cost to spend a night with her.

Mirajane never aspired to become Aphrodite. That was the last thing she wanted—_to be violated and raped. _However…she was well aware of her capabilities, and she knew that if she wanted it, she could take over that role and drain every monster's wallet. It'd be _so _easy. All that would have to be done is that she throws her dignity away…which was something she wasn't ready to do. But she _really_ needed the money. And _now_. And this would be for her little sister… She was well aware of her superiority in appearances compared to most of the girls here; they never treated her kindly, nor gave her kind looks about it in return. Erza, who was a beauty herself with the purest of hearts, was her only friend. But she supposed that staying a Torturer herself was less troublesome and helped some of the other girls feel better and tell themselves pretty, petty lies. Plus, it saved her from having to be touched by dirty hands.

Mirajane sighed. _But who cares about her!—_not that it matters anymore, though… Despite the amount she begged earlier, the men in expensive suits in charge here wouldn't give her any better role than a Demon. It was something she didn't understand. _Why? _She was pretty enough, and she had the voice for it… What was she supposed to do now? Find another strip club and sell her body for good? That seemed to be the only way for her to get the money she and her siblings needed. She stopped fiddling around with the glossy comb she had grabbed mindlessly and stared at it. Should she do it?

When she looked back up in the mirror, Mirajane found that the backstage dressing room was empty, all except for herself…and two men dressed in black striped suits standing in the shadow of the doorway leading to the hallway—

Mirajane gasped and stood up. She instantly recognized the two men, despite not having ever met these two in particular before, but she could tell enough that they were members of the gang that ran this strip club. Her sapphire eyes traveled across the room frantically; most of the costumes meant for the dance number all the Torturers were supposed to perform in at that very moment were gone. She still hadn't changed into costume yet, and was wearing her usual black dress. Were they going to get mad at her? Punish her for being late? Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, and her stomach began to churn. She could sense the evil atmosphere these men emitted and all their thoughtless sins they dragged behind them without a care in the world of who got caught in it. They would gladly, if not absentmindedly, sweep her away into their bloody closets that hid more than just a skeleton—that is, if she allowed it.

Mirajane gripped the comb in her hand, getting into a readying stance. "What do you want?" she asked. Was that the right thing to say?

"Relax," one of the men said, having seen her small adjustments. The man who had spoken was the one on the right, slightly shorter than the other. His face, just like the man beside him, was mostly concealed by the black fedora hat he wore, so Mirajane couldn't make too many assumptions about him regarding age, looks, and character. "We're not here to hurt you…but we will if you resist," he said as he took a taunting step forward. "The boss just wants to have a word with you."

Mirajane blinked. "Boss?" she echoed. Then she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, taking a small step back. She was already up against the counter to her stationed vanity mirror. Her hands gripped tighter on the comb in her hand, but she was careful to make sure that she didn't squeeze too hard to the point of breaking it. "What business does he have with me?" she said defensively, making sure to have a bit of weakness laced within her voice. To be honest, she hadn't heard much about the ringleader of this gang, nor had she met him, so she wasn't sure how to react towards his name.

The shorter man snickered, bowing his head a little and grabbed the rim to his black hat, tipping it down a bit. But those actions didn't hide the malicious grin plastered on the lower half of his face. "Weren't you just _begging _us earlier to give you a job that paid better?" he mockingly said.

Mirajane's grip on her comb involuntarily loosened, and all the fierceness she tried to exhibit slipped off as easily as a costume mask. She looked down to the ground in defeat, just like she had earlier when the other gang members directing the strip show had crudely turned her away. She needed to humble herself now, but she couldn't find the words to speak. She hated the idea of giving these monsters what they wanted and bowing down to their unjust rein; but she couldn't afford to be kicked out of this place and lose the extra income for her siblings. Luckily for her, however, the two men didn't bother waiting for an answer.

"Come, follow us, Courtesan," the shorter man spoke once again, commanding power in his voice. "We can't keep the boss waiting."

Mirajane looked up to find the shorter man's hand outstretched to her. This was just like an invitation to accept a car ride from a stranger. Something she would never do. With her face blank, she walked towards the two men and stopped short. "I can walk fine by myself, thanks," she said.

The shorter man's wicked smile faltered, but he simply shrugged it off. "After you, then," he said, sardonically bowing with a grand gesture for her to walk out the doorway before them.

Mirajane hesitated, but she walked past between the two men gracefully. The shorter man's grin quickly came back to his face fully with lecherous intent, and just as he reached out a hand towards Mirajane, a delicate hand had snatched his wrist crudely. If he had looked up all the way, he would've seen the darkened blue in her eyes as she gave him the death glare, but he didn't. He couldn't let her see his face, so the shorter man simply wrenched his hand out of her grip—or at least attempted to. _Dang. _She had a strong hold…

The grip on the shorter man's wrist tightened, and Mirajane turned to face him. "_Don't…ever…touch me," _she seethed darkly to him. Her large darkened blue orbs flickered over to the taller man briefly, to which his simply bowed his head a little, before she fixed her gaze back to the shorter man. He was a little shorter than herself, but maybe if she wasn't wearing her heels, they'd be about the same height. He was trying to get out of her grip again. _How pathetic. _She finally let go, watching as he stumbled back a bit and grabbed at his wrist with is left hand. She vaguely noticed a thick silver ring on his left ring finger with a large black onyx stone before she turned around and walked out the door and to the hallway.

The two men in striped suits shared a glance with one another, the shorter man more ruffled than the other, and they followed the starlight-haired girl out to the hallway where they found her waiting expectantly. Somehow, for whatever reason, it seemed as if the tables had turned on them and she was the one in charge. Their boss had warned them about her, but to handle her with the utmost care, for she played a _valuable _part in his plan... They hadn't known how serious their boss was with his warning until now.

The shorter man reached inside his pocket and pulled out a black handkerchief and handed it to Mirajane, taking extra caution with his movements. Mirajane didn't bother to reach out and take the offered handkerchief, simply displaying a look of confusion; she simply stood there and stared down the shorter man, challenging him with her narrowed eyes.

It was then that the taller man swiftly moved and grabbed Mirajane in a headlock, catching her off-guard, and brought a white handkerchief soaked in something wet and sweet smelling to her mouth and nose. A small, muffled yelp managed to escape her lips, and she struggled for a bit in the tall man's firm grip, but the drug was already in her system, so she stopped. She already knew it was too late at that point, for there was no way she could outrun these men. Not in this condition. She knew they were everywhere here.

So, instead, she allowed the tall man to hiss in her ear, telling her to hush and hold still, and to allow the shorter man to tie the black handkerchief over her eyes. The cool cloth was still over her mouth, and as the tall man guided her down the dimly lit hallways, with loud sleazy music playing in the background, making her world seem to fade and echo in and out with her consciousness, she stumbled forward. All she could still smell was something icy and sweet. Her legs and arms were slowly beginning to feel weird, and the turns and directions and steps she took were starting to be a haze.

They had stopped walking. She could hear muffled low voices…but then her body gave out on her and she spiraled down into a world of darkness.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! :)**


	4. In Remembrance

**2**

* * *

The bright sunlight pouring in through the window was what woke her up. The yellow warm rays shined right across her face, and while she turned away from the disturbance of the light, she eventually opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry. She blinked a few times, staring at her bare small room which was barely large enough to fit the frame of the wooden bed she laid on, as well as the tiny closet where all her dresses hung, and a tiny nightstand beside her bed. As her eyesight focused, she could pick out the bleak details in her room, from the dark wooden floors and the areas they were beginning to rot, to the dirty white walls with yellow stains streaking down from the ceiling. Then, there was the wretched smell. She was fairly used to it at this point, but for whatever reason, her sense of smell seemed to be heightened and she could strongly smell the odor of marijuana from their neighbors downstairs. It was normally very faint, but it was always still there.

Scrunching up her nose, she slowly sat up, squeezing her eyes shut tight. _Gosh, _how her head _hurt…_ She loosened her neck and let her head fall down to her chest, causing her starlight hair to slip past her shoulders, creating a mini curtain that hid her face. She put a hand to her empty stomach, slowly reopening her eyes, and that's when she noticed she was still in yesterday's dress. She hadn't changed into her nightgown. Nor had she changed clothes at all during the night…

Mirajane lifted her head and gazed around the small room with her deep sapphire eyes, almost as if she expected to find someone standing in the corner somewhere watching her. Just for extra precaution, she looked underneath her bed, too. But doing that was a mistake, for it made her head start spinning. She closed her eyes tight again, slowly sitting upright. She rubbed her eyes, trying her best to recall what happened last night. She hadn't performed at all, she knew that much…

She didn't even remember coming to her bedroom. How did she get here? She opened her eyes again, looking around for her purse, only to find it on top of the chestnut nightstand. Picking the small black bag up, she opened it, then reached her hand inside, slowly pulling out a small folded piece of paper. When she opened it up, she found neat cursive handwriting in black ink, with the words of:

_**Meet at Bloody Rosy when the devil comes out.  
Have your answer ready.  
We will be waiting.**_

Mirajane stared.

Last night…flashes of two men donned in striped suits and hats that concealed their faces flashed into her mind. She remembered struggling, and then giving up…and then being taken through the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, through a hidden doorway and led up an unknown pathway…and then passing out…and then…_him. _She was introduced to _him._

"Ah…so you've finally awoken," he had first said to her.

Her head was dizzy, and her limbs felt weird, but the sharp scent of bittersweet wine in the air was what brought her to reality. It was such a contrast compared to what she regularly smelled when she was on stage. It smelled rich and intoxicating—more in an alluring way, rather than the usual vulgar draft that forever roamed the dimly lit stage room full of cigarette smoke that blazed out of those greedy dragons' tainted breaths.

It took a lot of effort, but after a few soft groans from the struggle to pull herself out of the darkness, Mirajane was able to open her eyes. The blind fold was off of her…but her wrists and ankles. They were tied. Her hands were behind her back, connected to the cushioned chair she sat in. Despite already know how useless it would be for her to try escaping, she tugged against the ropes until her wrists began to burn a little.

"Now, now, no need to get restless—we can't have you hurting yourself and ruining your perfectly smooth skin…" came his voice again. It was aged, deep, and reverberated throughout the room. It was a great sound one would imagine a king to have…except there was something else laced in his voice that brought a certain uneasiness in the pit of Mirajane's stomach.

Mirajane gritted her teeth and looked up, now properly taking in her surroundings. The room was dark, with the only light source coming from the moonlight that poured in through the large open windows to her right._ What time was it? _Past midnight, that much she knew. Behind her was the only exit—it was guarded by two shadowed figures in hats that stood unmoving on either side of the door's frame like statues. To her left was a Victorian black desk and a large matching wardrobe beside it. Above her hung a grand, black crystal chandelier, and across the room, she could see a black king canopy bed with velvet red covers. And then, in front of her: A large folding screen. It was black with an elaborate dark painting that spanned across the four panels in rich colors of gold, red, blue, green, and a hazy brown. The artwork was truly beautiful…but terrifying at the same time. The scene seemed to have disfigured forms of people being tortured and there were demon-looking creatures laughing off to the side. _Was it Hell?_

As if reading her mind, the voice came again, and this time, Mirajane was able to immediately pinpoint where it came from, which was from behind the folding screen.

"It's Tartarus, that image you seen on the screen," he said. "A prison of never-ending torture for the wicked. Quite fitting for most of the men here, right? Those…what do some of you courtesans like to call them? _Monsters? _Ah, yes. That's it. _Monsters,_" he mused.

Mirajane remained silent. It wasn't funny.

"Ah, wait, but that's a very sensitive topic for you, isn't it?" he said in such a familiar way that made Mirajane want to shout "_You don't know anything about me!"—_but she held her tongue. "Now, you'll have to forgive me. I'm afraid I'm getting far off topic from why I _really _brought you here," he said, holding a scarce amount of remorse in his voice, "_Mirajane Strauss."_

Something tweaked within her at the sound of her full name, but she kept quiet, keeping her dark sapphire eyes locked on the unidentified man hiding behind the folding screen.

"Now, first things first—I _must _apologize about one of my men from earlier. The one who may have spoken too many words with loud actions to follow?—don't worry. I made sure to have him taken care of. He was brand new, so you'll have to forgive me for that. I had _no _idea how _immaturely_ and _irresponsibly_ he would handle things," he said. Even though he was apologizing, his voice held a hint of mockery in it that made Mirajane fortify her guard up even more. "But like I said, I am _so _sorry, and I made sure to have him taken care of, so you won't ever have to deal with that ever again…"

That's when Mirajane finally spoke up: "What do you mean, 'to have him taken care of?'"

If malevolent smiling had a noise, Mirajane was sure she heard it then in the dead silence. It was strange how quiet it was up here. She couldn't hear any of the loud, bustling music from down below, where she assumed was the stage room. At least, it looked like they were above on some upper level in a building of some sort; she didn't remember ever being led outside of the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, though.

"This is the Underworld, _Mirajane, _I'm sure you know very well how us folk like to handle things down in this dark abyss," he said darkly.

Mirajane didn't bother to find words to respond back. She _did _already know what he meant. She just wanted to make sure. After all…_with scum like him in the world, it would make it harder for her to protect her little sister and brother. _For that sole reason, along with considering the area they lived in, she _maybe _was just a _little _bit glad her sister was bedbound. _Possibly. _

"Anyhow," he continued, snapping her out of her thoughts, "enough about the dead. It's taboo to speak too long about them. There's a myth somewhere about their ghost coming back to haunt you if you do…"

A thick silence came creeping to the room after his words vanished, filling it up—

Loud laughter abruptly boomed throughout the room, chasing the silence right out the window. Mirajane contorted her face, glancing back at the two motionless figures still standing by the door. When she slowly fixed her uncertain gaze back on the man behind the folding screen, his throaty laughter was dying down.

"I'm sorry, that was an _awful _joke," he said, his voice full of humor. "We _all _know that the dead never come back. Once they're dead…" his voice had instantly dropped to a dangerous tone that caught even Mirajane off-guard, "_they're dead." _Something about the atmosphere in the room was changing drastically. It made Mirajane squirm uncomfortably in her seat. She wanted to leave. To run away from here and get as far as humanly possible away from this man. Her heart rate was picking up speed with an abnormal urgency.

"Now. Let's get down to business," he said. Everything about the way he had originally been carrying this conversation had suddenly changed. Or maybe…she just never _noticed _this foulness that lingered within his voice. That was it. This was what that "something else" was laced in his voice. He somehow managed to mask his malignant presence that he even had her fooled that he was just another, regular profane man. She didn't realize he carried that many heavy sins right off the bat. She didn't realize how dangerous of a person he actually was—that _he _was actually far worse than just a mere monster. _Who was he?_

"You're probably beginning to figure some things out now, aren't you?" he said with a snicker. That made Mirajane become irritated—she hated how he seemed to be able to read her very well without even looking at her. "Well, anyhow, I have a job I would like to offer you," he continued, "and it's one that I believe only _you _can do."

"A job?" Mirajane ricocheted; her voice was firm.

"Yes, and it's quite simple, really," he spoke poised, so coolly, one might actually believe him without any doubts. "I want you…"—his singsong voice became low, and Mirajane subconsciously leaned forward, pulling on her tied hands—"…to…"—his voice dropped even lower, giving off a tone that didn't even sound like his anymore; her stomach began to churn new nerves into the old mixture that had been simmering inside her for some time now; with the suspense, she was beginning to feel a certain kind of fear, like the kind where you expect something to jump out at you, but you aren't sure when—

"…_kill_ Laxus Dreyar."

Mirajane blinked. Her face was blank of emotions. "You mean to say…you want me to…_murder_..."—she spoke the word carefully, giving it space in case he were to correct her—"…that young, famous billionaire?" To say the least, she was skeptical.

"_Ah,_" he began to cackle maniacally, but in that same quiet voice, _"correct!_ So you _do _know of him... Simply put: you are first to make him fall in love with you, and then once you have earned his trust, you are to brutally kill him. "

Yes, Mirajane did know of him. Ever since she saw his picture from some old newspapers thrown out in the alleyway. _"Laxus Dreyar, the youngest and most successful billionaire in Magnolia at the age of 19." _Those were the exact words she had read four years ago. Now, she herself was that same age, and what did she have? Poverty. And it didn't seem to be changing anytime soon. As far as she knew, from the latest article she's seen about him, Laxus was still the youngest billionaire around; nothing much had changed, other than his success rate. He had his own mansion that he lived in by himself. He wasn't married. He had no girlfriend. In fact, it almost seemed like he had no interest in people in general. _Period_. Unless it was business, to capture his attention, one might just have to rip his dark eyes out and _force _them to look at you…but even then, that might not be enough.

And for someone like her…

"Are you playing with me?" Mirajane asked seriously. She may have been many things, and abandoned many things by doing the sort of work she did, but she was no fool. And she wasn't about ready to make one of herself. Laxus, for her, was an untouchable being.

_He would _never_ give her the time of day, nor so much as to glance her way._

How could she possibly make someone like him ever fall in love with her?

"Playing? No, no—I am quite serious about this," he said.

"Well, then…I think you're just going to have to find a different girl. I can't do this job," she bluntly said, and she tried to stand up, only to remember...she dropped her eyes down. Her ankles and wrists were tied. Just…_lovely_.

"No," he said, all playfulness leaving his voice. "I _know_ you can do this. In fact, you're probably the only girl here that _can _pull this job off."

"_No_…" Mirajane retorted. "I _can't."_

It went silent for a few solid seconds…and then came his voice: "Set her free."

Mirajane could only blink. That easily? Really? Before she knew it, her wrists were being released from the rope tied to the back of the chair. Once she was able to bring her hands in front of her, she turned to look behind her, watching as a dark figure walked back to their post at the left side of the door. It wasn't long before she started to untie her ankles from the thick rope around them. As soon as she could stand up, her legs wobbling a little, she faced the folding screen, debating whether or not she should try to steal a look at what hid behind it, but thinking better of it, she turned on her heels and began to slowly walk towards the door. She wasn't even sure if the men by the door would actually let her through, but she was going to try. After all, it was his words…

"What part of this job can you _not _do?"

He was talking again…

Mirajane looked behind her, her steps now becoming hesitant, but she didn't stop walking towards her freedom.

"I just don't _understand…"_

But it didn't seem like he was really talking to her. He was more talking to himself.

"You have the looks, the body, the voice..." he drawled on. "The will..."

That's when she stopped in her tracks. Then she turned around.

Mirajane stared at the folding screen, her dark eyes focusing on the tortured soul closest to the middle on the third panel to the right: a man immersed in water up to his neck, with a ripe golden fruit hanging from a tree, dangling mere inches away from his open mouth; but it seemed that he would never be able to reach that desirable fruit, and that was his eternal punishment. That was where she suspected him to be, behind this particular figure. "What do you mean I have the will?" she asked, staring straight through the folding screen.

"Oh…because I've _seen _you, Mirajane," he said, making her clench her hands. "I watched you that fateful day when that man tried to forcefully take you in that alleyway out back…and what did you do?" Mirajane's heart began to pound louder in her ears as the memories she thought were only hers, and hers alone, started to tear their way back to the surface. "_What did you do?" _he whispered loudly, and a gasp escaped her lips. She had to look around to make sure she was still standing isolated by herself, for his whispered words sounded almost as if he had come from behind her and spoken them right into her ear.

"You grabbed the broken glass lying beside you on the ground, and…" He ended with a throat-slitting sound.

_Red. _That was the only color she could see for the next few days after it happened. When she came home, her siblings were thrown into a world of concern and panic at the sight of all the blood, but she had been completely calm. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking for the rest of the day, but they stopped the next morning. But that kind of incident wasn't something someone can recover from after just one night's worth of rest. Just like any other sane person, she went through a few changes. She became overly conscious of the men who surrounded her, she started having nightmares about it, and her loathing hatred for the touch of a man on her skin was planted deep within her. The only man who could get away with touching her was her little brother, but even then, it took her some time before she actually was fully comfortable about it. And that affected him. He was always cautious around her, walking on eggshells, despite the fact that she was completely okay with it now. As long as it was only him.

"You know, that man you killed, he was the younger brother to a ringleader of a pretty powerful gang," he went on. "Had I not intercepted, you wouldn't be here today to have this proposal offered to you. And it's a pretty splendid proposal, if you ask me. I'm willing to give you more than enough to secure a better life you so dearly strive for for your precious little brother and sister…who is terribly sick right now, is she not?"

It felt like a stab to her heart when he said that.

"With what I am willing to offer you, you could get Lisanna the doctor she needs to see. And then you can have enough money to get Elfman better clothes that fit him better. Even though you technically are indebted to me for saving your life, and probably your siblings' lives as well, I won't ask you to pay me back. You can think of it as a given favor," he stated.

Mirajane could only gape at this point. _How did he know their names? How much did he know? "_Who _are _you?" she asked quietly, her voice strained. She could hear that smile creeping up on his face again.

"Why don't you take a seat and we'll talk more about this over a glass of wine? I have a bottle of St. Mary's here, and it's quite divine. You can only buy it from Dieux Saints," he said. "While I've tried many of their other wines, this one is always the one I end up buying. It's the best, in my personal opinion—a very rich red color, like blood."

Dieux Saints. That was an incredibly high-end, expensive French restaurant somewhere on the East end of Magnolia; that's where all the rich resided. The red-light district was on the South end of Magnolia. One basically _had _to be a billionaire in order to be welcome at Dieux Saints. After all, only the rich could dress nice enough and afford anything on the menu.

Mirajane contemplated her options for a few seconds. Distress was shadowing over her lovely features, and her heart was trying to desperately pull her towards the door. This may just become her greatest sin, but—"I don't care about the wine," was all she could say before she silently took her seat back in the black chair she had woken up in.

"Good girl." His smile had gotten bigger. "Now then…" and he continued to discuss his job offer in further detail about what he wanted her to do.

They drugged her again when their discussion was over and he left her with the decision to choose whether or not she accepted the job or not. And now…here she was. Sitting on her bed.

Mirajane gripped the piece of paper in her hand. _That man…_ The shorter man who had come to take her had referred to him as "boss." That meant he was the head person in charge of Roxanne _La _Sanguine, right? Which then meant he basically owned her, and every other girl that worked there. Even though he said it was her choice on whether or not she accepted the job…was that really the case? What if she seriously refused?

There was suddenly the sound of something cluttering to the ground outside her bedroom door. _Elfman. _Mirajane pursed her lips. Could she really afford to not accept this offer? He had offered her an incredible amount of money…and it wasn't something she would be given at the end of the job. He said he would be paying her in fragments, and that's all she really needed in order to afford a doctor to come visit Lisanna.

There was a light knock on her door. Mirajane's eyes looked up at the door just as it began to open, and she crumpled the small note in her hand, slipping it in the bodice of her dress before she put her purse back on the nightstand. The head that poked in sight was her little brother's. He had such an innocent look, with his white hair neatly brushed down over his forehead; he had talked about wanting to change it, though. He wanted to look more like a man.

"Ah—Big Sister! You're up!" Elfman exclaimed in relief. "How are you feeling?"

Mirajane outstretched her arms, giving him her warmest smile, and he came over, enveloping her in his warm arms. She always made sure to hug him whenever she had the chance. When Elfman pulled away, he sat on his knees on the ground in front of her. He was only one year younger than her, and because of their difference in gender, he had a much larger figure than her. He was tall, and had a fairly decent muscular build. Did people think they looked related?

"Well, you seem to be doing well," Elfman commented. "That's good."

"Did you have to carry me to bed last night?" Mirajane asked softly.

Elfman nodded his head. "Yeah, when those strange men in striped suits brought you, you were completely passed out. They said it was from over-exhaustion…but I don't know…" he said suspiciously, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked up at her with concerned eyes, to which she simply shrugged off.

Now that she had confirmed her guesses, Mirajane had no reason to dwell on how she woke up in bed. The further she got away from this topic, the better. Elfman didn't need to know any more than he already knew. "Hmm…then I guess that's what happened. Sorry for the trouble," she said, giving him an apologetic smile.

"No! Not at all. If it's for you…then it's fine," he said, looking down, fiddling with his hands. "As long as you're okay, then that's all I care about. After all, you've been working so hard… You're the one who's been taking care of us this whole time… I only wish I could help more…" He then looked up at her with a new determination. "I promise you I'll find a job so that you won't have to work so hard."

Mirajane could only shake her head lightly; it was all she could do to not let herself fall apart right before his eyes. "It's okay, Elfman. As long as you're taking care of Lisanna while I'm gone, that's all that matters," she said. She paused. "How is she doing?"

Elfman's face fell. Mirajane pursed her lips. She hated whenever she had to see him like this. She got up off her bed, placing a hand on the side of his face while slipping one into his fidgeting hands. His shoulders slumped and his hands relaxed. She then offered him a delicate smile. "Come on," she said, pulling him up to his feet. "Let's go check on her together."

Lisanna's room was to the left of Mirajane's. The room was slightly bigger, holding the same setup and furniture as Mirajane's room, but it smelled a lot more like the outside air. So much better than the toxic draft that managed to find its way to Mirajane's room.

Lisanna was lying in bed, fast asleep. Her skin seemed slightly gray, her bangs were matted to her forehead, and she looked like she was in discomfort. But compared to yesterday, this was a great contrast. At least she was finally sleeping. She had been crying yesterday. She was in absolute misery, but all she kept on saying was how she didn't want to die and that she was scared.

Mirajane leaned over her little sister, brushing her bangs out of her face and moving her short hair off to the side. She then pressed her forehead to Lisanna's and closed her eyes. It was hot. Burning. She then backed away and stood beside Elfman. For a quiet moment, they remained as they were and watched Lisanna take in quiet breaths. Then Mirajane placed a hand on Elfman's arm and looked up at him. Elfman nodded his head and they both exited the room.

.

Later in the day, Mirajane found herself sitting on the old, torn, stained turquoise couch that sat in the middle of the main room. Behind her was where the molding kitchen was, to her left was the loose front door, to her right were the two bedrooms and rusting bathroom, and that summed up their small condominium. She had her chin resting in the palm of her hand; she was leaning forward in thought with her elbows resting on her knees. When she turned her head, she found the thin blanket Elfman used to sleep with in a bundled mess beside her. Since there were only two rooms and two beds, Elfman slept on the couch. It was a really stiff couch.

They were living such a despondent life.

Mirajane reached her hand into her bodice and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. Elfman was out running errands, so for now, she had her own privacy. She smoothed out the folds in the paper, reading over the now smudged writing. She could smell the ink from it. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Then she exhaled.

She had made her choice.

.

Once the cool night came, Mirajane draped herself in her black hooded cape and left their home alone in silence. She didn't have work tonight, so she had to sneak out when Elfman fell asleep. As she walked through the streets, she pulled her hood further over her head, hiding her face as much as possible. She wasn't afraid, but she didn't feel comfortable either.

This place they wanted her to meet them at…it wasn't one people often ventured to. Bloody Rosy was a crude nickname given to a broken clock tower in the middle of an abandoned town, Rosington, that once used to be prosperous, but now belonged to the red-light district. All the buildings that surrounded it had long been abandoned, and nothing good ever happened in this part of the red-light district. But nothing bad ever really happened either, for people in general liked to stay away from this area, for it was believed to be haunted.

Lovely Roseus Mort. That was the true name of this clock tower. It had been placed here in dedication to the death of Rose Williams; she was the wife to Harley Williams, one of the founders of this abandoned area. He had brought prosperity here, but then one day, his wife disappeared. She was later found in the middle of the street the next few days after her disappearance, all bloody and dead. Someone had murdered her. It broke her poor husband's heart, and following her death, everything else seemed to follow that same path. But since he wanted her to somehow be remembered forever, her husband had this clock tower built where her body was found. It was her memorial and all he had left to give her.

After the dedication of the completed clock tower which took one full year to build, Harley Williams was eventually found two weeks later, hanging from the railing to the top floor of his mansion. The authorities never disclosed whether or not it was homicide or suicide.

Lovely Roseus Mort stopped working soon after. And no matter how many times they fixed it, the time would always stop at exactly 1:43 A.M. It was said that was the time Harley Williams died. People began to claim strange things happening at that hour. Out of fear, everyone in Rosington eventually cleared out. The unknown always scared everyone the most, and it continued to.

Mirajane stopped walking when she stood at the base of the old clock tower. It was maybe fifteen years old, standing at twenty inches. It had been at least eleven years since she last visited this place. That was when their parents were still alive; they used to live in this area at one point. But then they moved, following the crowd. And soon, the Reaper decided to follow after them.

Mirajane looked up at the face of the clock, whose glass face was cracked. As expected, it read 1:43. She wasn't quite sure how much she believed in evil ghosts yet, but she did believe in evil people, and she had no doubt that what killed Harley Williams was the same being that murdered his dear wife. After all, she had noticed things in the background other people didn't, but she was too young to understand it at the time. All she knew was that Harley Williams was not a man of cruel intentions.

Her dark sapphire eyes trailed down the clean-cut carvings of detailed roses and thorns along the body of the clock tower, until they reached the base where the following words could be found, carved and painted in gold:

_Lovely Roseus Mort_

_For time and all eternity, my love…_

_Rose Williams  
May 23, 1916_

When Mirajane looked up, she found that hidden in the shadow of the clock tower was one of the hatted men in striped suits. She hadn't noticed him there earlier, but she had a feeling he had been waiting for some time now. She pursed her lips; she didn't feel good on the inside. He planned this out, didn't he? _That man…_He chose this place specifically all for the irony of it because now, here she was, about ready to agree to do something far more than outrageous: she was going to murder someone, who no doubt had at least one person who loved them dearly.

But she had her younger brother and little sister.

She loved them so, so, _so _much…and one of them had their life on the line.

If it was for them, then she was willing to do anything.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! :)**


	5. Fortuna

**3**

* * *

She wasn't a killer.

But Mirajane already had blood on her hands. The sin was already hers, so it's not like it couldn't get any worse than this. The only difference between this situation and her last was that she had a valid reason to harm that man—it was self-defense. _He was a monster._ But for this…she didn't know anything at all about Laxus…

Yet now wasn't the time to be worrying about him or trying to chastise herself. Now wasn't the time to be regretting her choice—she had her reasons. She had already set it in stone, and even if she changed her mind, she didn't think she'd be given the option to drop out of this. _He_ had already paid her a portion, all for accepting. He had the payment ready for her when she told the man in stripes her answer. A part of her told her that he had been expecting that answer, or at least, he had prepared for whatever answer she may give, and whatever she said, it would result in her accepting the job in the end. This man in charge was clearly someone with a lot of power.

_He wasn't someone to fool around with._

None of those men like him were. They weren't even men. Nor were they simply monsters. They were a beast much fiercer and of their own league—they were _dragons. _Black dragons. They were far from the friendly kind.

If there was anything Mirajane knew, it was that one should never _ever _play games with any of the men from the underworld or get caught up in their dark deeds. If you ever come across one, you should run away as far and as fast as you can. But by becoming a Demon at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, she had already willingly taken their hand—taken _his _hand. Maybe she should've reached out for a different hand to help pick herself back up because without even knowing it, she had dragged her siblings into this dark world with her. That was the last thing she wanted. But were there any other hands she could have held onto at the time?

She wasn't even sure _whose _hand exactly she was holding onto—_whose _hand she had made the deal with. She only knew his voice. Was that even a good enough reason to associate with him? _No. _But he was offering her something she just couldn't pass up—especially with how much worse Lisanna's condition was getting.

If Mirajane was being completely honest, she wasn't even sure what exactly she was getting herself into. Despite the night life she lived, she wasn't completely familiar with any of the dangerous men in the underworld business—or more correctly, any of those gangs and their members. While she spent so much time around them, she had no idea who any of them were or what their sins were. She wasn't even sure who in the audience belonged to the rich upper-class society. _She couldn't tell any of the men apart_—not that it mattered. All in all, they were the same to her: monsters. They were creatures she wanted to stay as far away from as much as humanly possible, which was why she always made sure to stay out of their reach whenever on stage. She never remained near a man in the audience long enough for him to be able to recognize her, for they might target her later in the night.

It wasn't complicated to understand, and there needn't be any grand reason for it: Girls like her weren't treated with grace, nor were they treated with kindness or respect.

Mirajane knew of plenty of girls among the Torturers that had been taken away in the middle of the night, most likely against their own will, and some of them never returned. But missing girls wasn't a problem here at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, for there was _always _a replacement ready to take over. And nobody cared. The girls here would probably love it if she suddenly disappeared and never returned—which she just might.

This…_job _Mirajane was agreeing to do…in the end, it might just be Laxus who killed her before she could him. After all, he, too, just like the Black Dragon that now had her neck chained to its every command and control, held a lot of power. Even if she were to die at his hands, however, she would be content because her siblings would still have the partial payments she would receive, and that should be more than enough to last them the next couple decades or so. She just needed to make sure she survived this job long enough for that.

Who exactly was Laxus anyways? Was he a man? Monster? Dragon? And most importantly, was he someone she should be afraid of?—_was he someone she could kill?_

She clenched her teeth.

_Death. _Who was it going to be? Her, a courtesan? Or him, the billionaire? The odds weren't even in her favor, but it was a fat lie if she were to say she was _actually_ content with leaving her siblings in death. It wasn't even a question_: It wasn't going to happen. _At least, not like that…

Mirajane continued to stare down at her hands that rested upon her black purse as her thoughts buzzed on. She was currently in the large dressing room at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, collecting all of her things from her vanity station. The air for once didn't smell as thick with perfume and hairspray; it smelled sweet, but not too overpowering. The reason for that, though, was because she was the only one here. It was some time around 2:00 P.M., so the underworld strip club wasn't open for another few hours.

Along with the small (yet large to her) payment, the man from last night had given her another note from the "boss," _him, _the Black Dragon. It had instructed her to do a few things, the first being she immediately pack up everything, for she was going to be away for a while. She was to rendezvous back at the haunted clock tower tomorrow at the same time she had met them two nights ago. She had three days total to prepare. She wouldn't be returning to Roxanne _La _Sanguine for the next few weeks, and possibly months or even year; she also wouldn't be coming back home to her younger brother and sister, either. That was the part she was having the most difficult time with—not the killing part, even it it was always there lurking in the background.

_How could she leave them?_ _What could she possibly tell them?_—she wasn't sure what to do about her siblings yet… But that was just part of the job. The Black Dragon had already explained everything to Mirajane during their first meeting about his plan and the role she would have to play. She even already knew how she was supposed to kill Laxus. If she thought about it with a clear mind, even she would ultimately choose to be far away from her siblings. That was where it was safest for them.

Mirajane finally broke out of her frozen state and slowly picked up the burgundy colored lipstick by the vanity mirror on the countertop, twisting it in her dainty fingers so that she could see the pretty design on the cap; the designs represented what expensive brand collection it belonged to. This was her last item. She'd had this lipstick since she first started; it belonged to her late mother, being one of the finer things her father had given to her. One would think it would hold sentimental value to her, but…_if only they knew what purpose she was using it for_… She exhaled deeply as she dropped it inside her purse, hearing it clutter against the other items she had put inside of it. She didn't have too much to pack up, mostly just makeup and some hair products and accessories; she tried to keep it simple, for she didn't have plans to stay at this place forever. At least, that was her original hope, and maybe this new job would make that happen.

Mirajane clutched her purse with both hands, and then, ever so slowly, she lifted them, shaping them together like a gun and pointed it at the mirror before her.

Inside of her, she felt calm, like a serene ocean. Mirajane then closed her eyes. She tried to imagine the black and white image she only knew to be Laxus from the newspapers and placed it in front of her—he had a fierce look. Though it was faint, she could feel her heartbeat picking up a little bit of speed. This was for Elfman_, _and most importantly, this was for Lisanna_._ She bit her bottom lip, gripping her hands tighter together: _bang!—_

"Mirajane?"

She jumped with a small gasp, and her large eyes flicked over to the owner of the familiar voice—"Erza?! Hi! What brings you here…um…at this time of day?" Mirajane tried to ask casually, clasping her hands in front of her. She _clearly _achieved normality with the strange look the scarlet-haired girl standing at the doorway was giving her. As if she could recover from being caught pointing a fake gun at her reflection with a few words of failed casualness…

"Um, I think I lost something…." Erza slowly said as she came over to her station next door. She bent over with her hand on the countertop, peering at the black, glittery ground.

"Oh? What did you lose?" Mirajane asked, watching as Erza straightened up and began to look through her items at her vanity station, picking up a small bottle of perfume with one hand before setting it down and picking up an eyeshadow palette with the other hand. If she had seen her shooting enactment, she was being kind by ignoring it…or maybe she was too diverted by something else…

"Uh…I think…I lost one of my earrings…" Erza said distractedly, picking up the rest of her items at her station to see if anything was hidden beneath or behind them.

"You mean your silver dangly ones? With the tiny-like daggers?" Mirajane asked, now checking beneath her own station—anything to stray attention from herself will do—she pursed her lips. She didn't realize how dirty it was under there…

"Yes," Erza said with a heavy sigh. Her chocolate brown eyes traveled the room, scaling it over. "They're very precious to me…. I received them as a gift from a childhood friend…" she said.

Mirajane glanced over at her friend, her face brightening up as she said: "Oh! Is this that blue-haired boy you talked so fondly about when telling me about your orphanage days?" When she received a flushed nod in response, she went on to say: "I'll definitely make sure we find it! When did you realize it was gone?"

Erza walked over to where a rack of black lacy outfits hung in the corner across the doorway, and she dropped down to her hands and knees, feeling around the ground as she searched with her eyes. "Earlier in the afternoon, when I checked my reflection after I took a shower…" she answered. "I already tore my room apart looking for it for the past two hours, so I know it's not there…"

"Hmm…" Mirajane hummed, looking around the room. "Here, you stay looking in here, and I'll go check the stage, okay?"

"Yeah, that would help a lot, thanks," Erza said, giving Mirajane a brief smile as she walked out of the dressing room.

She kept her dark sapphire eyes attached to the ground as she slowly walked down the dimly lit hallway. One of the lights was flickering like the glow of a firefly, and she could hear the soft buzzing sounds of electricity in tune with the on and off flickers of light. The only other noise accompanying her was the sounds of her low-heeled shoes clicking against the ground; its sound seemed to bounce off the walls back and forth repeatedly, as if the walls were playing catch with the sounds her heels made.

Until she came to the adjacent hall and nearly ran into the wall that ended the hallway she was walking down, Mirajane only had Erza's earring in mind while her eyes searched the black ground in a trance. She startled herself once her right foot kicked the wall, indicating it was time for her to turn right where the stage room was. When she looked over, it was dark down that way, with only the dimmed lighting of dark shades of blue, purple, and red creeping their way into vision of Upstage. She stayed where she was for a few seconds before she slowly made her way down to the eerie glow. It was getting harder to see the black ground, so she was now hunching over with her legs bent and her hands keeping her hair out of the way as she walked. The lights in this hallway had long ago burned out, and none of the men in striped suits bothered to fix it; they were too lazy to, so it was always this dark.

As Mirajane neared the entrance to Upstage, that's when she somehow caught sight of it in the distance—a small glisten on the ground, close to the wall, as if it had been kicked over there. She was running over there when she heard distant voices in the stage room—that made her come to a stumbling halt, and she had to use her hands to catch her fall—_not a sound was made_. She slowly released the breath she had been holding. Now crouched down, she gradually crept her way further into the grand stage room, coming into Right Wing, but she stopped short where the drawn velvet curtains hung. Now that she was closer, she was positive the silver item on the ground, just a few feet beyond the coverage of the curtain, was exactly what she was looking for. _How lucky. _She bit her bottom lip and looked over to Center Stage. She could hear their low voices—the men were fairly close, probably sitting in that first round booth in front of the stage.

"…are probably expecting us to do it on Thursday night, so we're going to plan Wednesday…"

"Are you sure? That stupid Fairy Tail always gets in the way…"

Why were they still here? _Go do your dirty business somewhere else! _Mirajane irritably thought, but she immediately released her anger with a sigh. She supposed this place was most popular for exchanging dark deeds and planning them out…_but still_. They were just making this a lot more complicated than it should be for her. After all, who knows what they would do to her if they ever discovered her existence… _Probably the same fate you're to deliver to Laxus, _a voice echoed from the back of her mind. She fisted her hands, bunching up the thick material of her dress.

With her back now facing the curtain, a few moments passed and Mirajane finally turned her head towards the end of the curtain and slowly inched towards it. She stopped right when she was at the tippy edge and inhaled deeply. It smelled like cigarettes. Gathering all of her courage, she peeked out at the dark auditorium of the stage room—that's when she spotted them, right where she had suspected them to be. There were three men.

Mirajane quickly pulled her head back behind the safety of the curtain when she saw one of them seemingly look up, and she froze for a few seconds, listening to their discussion before she decided she was still in the clear. She glanced over at the silver item of priority. She then looked at her bare arms and hands and then grabbed at her starlight hair. _No good_—they would stand out the most if she tried to reach over there. That's when she looked down at her other option. She wore her usual long black dress and black heels. She pursed her lips. _This was good enough._

Mirajane quietly scooted down a bit so that she was on her elbows, and glancing to her left and right, making sure she was still alone, she slowly extended her right leg out, only hoping the black material and dark lighting was enough to make this look inconspicuous.

One of the men sighed heavily, making her heart jump and her eyes snap over in their direction.

"…if not them, then that stupid Dragon Team—Makarov's grandson, Laxus, is in charge of… I honestly think he's even scarier to deal with…"

At the sound of his name, Mirajane started to hold her breath, as if that would make her hearing better.

"Yeah, did you hear? Because of him, that Raven Tail gang got busted. They're all in jail, except for their leader who managed to get away…"

"So that's why I haven't seen that annoying fool, Ivan, around lately…"

"Really? I heard that Laxus actually killed him…"

"Wouldn't that be interesting—did you know? Ivan is Laxus' father."

A snicker.

"Well, either way, whatever happened, that boy obliterated them. I heard he has a rage you don't ever want to cross paths with. We just need to make sure we avoid _him, _if anything…"

A sigh.

"Yeah…"

"All right boys, we'll discuss how to handle them later. Back to business—so, I'll have some of my men stationed in the old sewage system. Nobody really knows, but fifty years ago, the people here used that as an emergency escape passage…"

"Hey, what is that?"

"What?"

"That over there…"

"I don't see anything…"

"But I could've sworn—"

A gun shot.

"There. I don't think there's anyone there. We should be the only ones here, and I don't want to waste time like last time when you thought there was somebody, but there really wasn't. It probably was just the smoke. What was it that you thought you saw?"

"…something pale…white…"

"It's the cigarette smoke then…"

Mirajane was now sitting on her knees, bent over with a fisted hand close to her chest. Her eyes were wide and her insides were a bundle of nerves. When she peered down and opened her hand, a silver earring rested safely on the palm of her hand. She closed her hand securely, next peering up at the small hole in the wall before her. With one quick glance over in the direction of the three men, she was already to her feet and receding down the dark hallway, with "…I guess so…" as the last thing she heard from their conversation.

When she was about ready to turn left, down the hallway to the dressing room, Mirajane paused. She felt the urge to be in a hurry, for who knew when or if those men would come down this way, but if she kept walking straight, there would be one more connecting hallway to her right, a good few feet before the stairwell entrance where all the courtesans were to enter in from. Down this hallway on the right was where two bathrooms were.

None of the girls ever went down this hallway because there were a lot of peculiar paintings that made them feel uncomfortable—apparently their eyes followed you as you walked down it. They also held a superstition about the girl's bathroom: there was a bloody courtesan you would see in the mirror once the lights inevitably flickered five times. She was said to be the past Aphrodite in the year of 1872, who had committed suicide in one of the stalls. Her name was Laura Marcel. Mirajane had never actually ventured down this hallway before, always blanking about its existence whenever she passed by it. She had no reason to go down it just like everybody else, though—the bathrooms there were said to be broken and unkempt, and there were functional bathrooms down the same hallway the dressing room was on. Those ones were closer and cleaner, and apparently had a lot more stalls.

But there was something she was curious about…and it had been eating at her ever since the happenings of three nights ago.

Mirajane glanced down the hallway to the dressing room. Then she looked straight, where the other hallway was. She started to walk, not turning left.

When she arrived at the opening to her right, Mirajane stopped and stared down the hallway. The lights were a dim yellow, and the ground here was carpeted in a crimson red, with darker red stains in certain areas. There were many paintings that lined the wall on both sides, but Mirajane's eyes couldn't bother to pay them any attention, for one had already captured her sight. It was a body painting that hung at the very end: It had a cloaked figure outstretching a skeletal, decaying hand, welcoming you to step inside their boat that floated on dark waters, which led towards even more darkness.

.

"Guess what I found?" Mirajane said in a happy singsong voice, skipping her way towards the scarlet-haired girl who was crawling on the ground at the far end of the dressing room.

When Erza looked up, her distressed face lightened up greatly. "Did you find it?!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet and rushing over. She gratefully took the small jewelry from Mirajane's hand, examining it, and sighed. "Thank _goodness,_" she whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

Mirajane simply stood there with her hands clasped in front of her, allowing a small smile to grace her features. Maybe she should discuss her previous situation with the gun and those three men…

That's when Erza looked at the starlight-haired girl before her, her appreciative smile fading a bit, and she spoke first: "Hey, Mirajane…is it true?"

Mirajane blinked. "Hm?" was all she could do in response, completely lost on the conversation.

"You've been gone a few days now," the scarlet-haired girl went on. "Forgive me if I'm prying, but rumors travel fast around here, and I heard from one of the other Demons that you're leaving this place." Her dark brown eyes traveled to Mirajane's cleared off vanity station, all except for her purse that remained there, and Mirajane could only follow her gaze, her heart dropping once she remembered why she was really here in the first place. So…they already knew, without her even having to say anything. It really was a scary place to be in, this underworld society...

"You…you would say goodbye to me if you were to leave, right? I mean, I know I may not be your favorite person, but we're friends, right?" Erza softly said as she twiddled with her earring, almost timidly. So unlike her. "I mean…I wouldn't mind keeping in touch…"

That was when Mirajane placed a hand over Erza's. "Of course," she said, offering a breaking smile. She almost forgot that leaving the Roxanne _La _Sanguine meant she had to say goodbye to Erza, too. "You're probably the only friend I have, and the only other person I care about as much as I do my siblings. We've both come a long ways after all…there's no way I could just throw that all away…" Which every word she said was true to her heart.

When Mirajane first started working at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine was around the same time Erza had first started working there as well. They were probably the youngest ones, as well as the only two who shared the same age, yet despite it all…they absolutely _hated _each other. It was always a competition between just the two of them, and they couldn't seem to stand the other's presence, let alone mere existence. From vandalizing one's vanity station with rouge lipstick to pranking another one in the bathroom, their war went on. Even though they both suffered trials that were equally difficult, and they both struggled with the same financial problems, they just couldn't get along with one another…until the incident happened.

Erza was the victim, falling to the same fate that many other girls had already woken up to in an unbreathable darkness. There had been several men, all surrounding her, wanting to take her. It was daytime, so there were still people out on the streets, dressed in dirty, ragged clothes. _But none of them were bothering to help_. They all turned a blind eye towards her and walked on by, as if there was nothing going on because why should anyone trouble themselves with another person's problems? In the end, they were all scum, and there was no need to save trash. Save it, and the trash will just continue to build up, and there was already an excessive amount as it was in this part of town. It'd be for the better if the world could be rid of one more piece of trash…

But a soul wasn't trash.

Life had value. There were just some beings that chose to become horrifying, malevolent creatures. They chose to become _monsters_. And it was _them_ who Mirajane just couldn't _stand _to see smiling and getting away with everything. It wasn't fair. It wasn't _right. _

So, when Mirajane witnessed the scene of Erza and these men…those _monsters_…she didn't even care about how much she hated that girl. She didn't even know why she hated her so much, either, but now, especially after her own incident that had happened a few weeks ago, she just couldn't walk on by like everybody else. And she knew…._she knew_ how kind Erza really was. Despite everything, she was aware of the fact that Erza was the one who had retrieved the stolen money she had earned that one of the older girls had stolen. She was aware that Erza always watched over her things at her vanity station when she went to perform, making sure none of the other girls stole her makeup and hair things. She knew of everything that Erza had been doing for her, and she was always sure to do nothing short in return because in reality, she actually really liked Erza.

Erza was the only one whom Mirajane could actually talk to. She was the only one who listened to her and looked her straight in the eyes whenever she spoke. She was the only one who _cared_. She was the only one who was still _fighting_. She was a blazing flame. And someday, when it was time for those flames to become ashes, she would arise and become a beautiful phoenix.

Mirajane was _not_ about ready to let those monsters put out Erza's beautiful flames—it wasn't time yet. So, the moment she saw one of those monsters raise a hand with ill intent, she acted immediately. She took no time to fight these men with all her might and strength. In the end, together with the help of an old broom and abandoned empty fruit crate, Erza and Mirajane were victorious in their fight. They didn't come out unscathed, but they were still standing, breathing, living, and most importantly, genuinely smiling.

From that moment on, all their rude words and wrong accusations stopped, turning into the opposite. They treated and acknowledged each other as what they really wanted to be from the start, and ever since, they've carried on accordingly.

Now, here they stood.

Mirajane bit her bottom lip. She wanted to tell Erza. She wanted to tell her everything…but she couldn't. She was forbidden to tell anyone about this job. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, accepting to only saying this much: "I can't say a whole lot about this right now…but I promise to tell you everything when I can. All I can and need you to understand is that I won't be gone forever. I'll write you…when or if I can…"

Erza stared. Then a smile broke her somber features, and she nodded her head. "I understand. I'm sure whatever it is, it's something you have to do…at least, that's what I'm sensing. We'll see each other again. I wish you the best of luck, and all the safety and protection in the world," she said, placing a firm hand on Mirajane's shoulder.

Mirajane could feel herself melting. Her insides were burning and something was overflowing out of her. She could hardly stand it any longer, so she threw her arms around the scarlet-haired girl and hugged her tightly. She only hoped this really wouldn't be the last time…

When they pulled apart, they exchanged smiles, and stood there for a moment in the calm silence. Then, after a few long seconds, Erza spoke, wiping her eyes a bit: "So…I heard a loud noise while you were gone looking for my earring in the stage room… I'm not sure if I'm right, and I don't mean to freak you out, but it almost sounded like…" Her face twisted up a bit, as if in an internal war on whether or not she wanted to say it or not was starting up within her.

Mirajane widened her eyes. _Oh…_ "About that…yeah…I think…" she began, considering whether or not she should tell Erza about the three gangsters that had been in the stage room. She looked at her brown-eyed friend's conflicted face. "I think…" she slowly said, "maybe it's best for us to leave now…"

Erza nodded her head in agreement, having no questions. "I agree. We're not supposed to really be here during this time, and I don't like being here if I don't have to be," she said.

Mirajane agreed, silently questioning the scarlet-haired girl's reasoning ability, but she didn't say anything, and together, the two left in peace much to her relief. She ended up walking Erza all the way back to her dorm room, explaining what little she could about this so-called "job," as well as asking her to check up on her siblings daily, to which the scarlet-haired girl humbly obliged to do so. Eventually—much too quickly—it came to that dreadful time, and not too many moments later, Mirajane found herself saying her final goodbye for what would be a while to Erza. Hopefully not the last.

When she returned home, Mirajane stopped at the front door with her hand on the doorknob. It was about time that she told her siblings, and after her exchange with Erza, she knew it had to be done tonight. She was running out of time, and it didn't seem right to tell them the night she would have to leave. When she finally opened the door and found Elfman trying to prepare dinner, all her will abandoned her and she could only stand there and stare at her little brother. It took everything in her to gather all of her courage and sit Elfman down on the couch to talk. She sat beside him, holding his large hand. It was a wonder to her how much he had grown...

Her mind was already trying to wander away from the topic she was about ready to discuss. Mirajane pursed her lips. _She needed to focus_. But she wasn't sure where to begin…yet the words were eventually able to flow out like a calm river. That is, after what felt like an eternity of silence. It was a smooth river of lies.

Elfman was accepting of it. He said he'd be a man about it and take care of Lisanna properly while Mirajane was off to a grand job offering she had received to perform live and sing, which would ultimately bring them in a much better income. He believed in his sister's beautiful singing voice; he'd heard it countless times in his youth to help him go to sleep in the past, so he had no doubts that what she was telling him was nothing but the truth and a great opportunity. But that didn't stop his tears from falling like a never-ending rainstorm, and all she could do was hold him tightly, comforting him, telling him she'd be back and not to worry. It was good for them. At least, that's what she tried to make him believe—_what she tried to make herself believe._

After her talk with Elfman, Mirajane went to Lisanna's room. But she never did say anything to her, for Lisanna was too weak to focus and hear the words she spoke, and she didn't want to disturb her during her rest. In the end, she left her little sister the only thing she could depart her with, which was a kiss to the forehead and the whispered words of "I love you."

That night would be the final one she would sleep and breathe under the same roof as her siblings, until after a few months were to come to pass...maybe. Mirajane took her pillow and blankets off of her bed and joined Elfman on the couch. She made sure to have him promise her that he'd use her bed while she was gone. The couch was so incredibly uncomfortable—she almost would've preferred the _floor_—but she was able to fall asleep easily with Elfman holding her in his arms. He never did tell her, but it was the first night in years that he was able to sleep soundly through the night and have a pleasant dream ever since their parents' deaths. It only made their farewell the following day even more challenging for him, however, and he cried even harder when she left, but he still held his ground firmly.

The next night when she departed, and the following nights to come before everything changes, he slumbered in Mirajane's bed, protecting his promise to her, as well as every other promise they had made.

.

It was dark, and she had a heavy heart fuller than the full moon that shone brightly through the smog that night. Time had hardly seemed to pass, but Mirajane was soon back at the Lovely Roseus Mort. A black glossy car was awaiting her arrival. The hatted man who had stepped out of the passenger door in a striped suit came around the front of the posh car and opened the backseat door once she was a few feet away. For some odd reason, it reminded her an awful lot of that large dark painting down the abandoned hallway at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine of the cloaked figure and its outstretched skeletal hand, inviting whoever laid eyes upon it to enjoy a boat ride that Mirajane could only believe led to the actual Underworld.

It really was strange how perfectly fate fit everything together like a puzzle. That was what she couldn't help but think about as the previous day's events went through her head, bringing her to that very moment and time she was currently in.

With dark sapphire eyes not even once glancing up at the starless sky, Mirajane stepped inside the black carriage. The door closed shortly after her.

* * *

**Thanks so much for reading! :) And special thanks to everyone that reviewed/favorited/followed. **


	6. Her Commence

**4**

* * *

"Welcome to the Dulcis Mendacium Villa, otherwise known as the Dul'Men Villa," they said. "This is where the boss has planned for you to stay. Everything provided here is for you. We'll be back tomorrow around noon to inform you of further instructions. For now, settle in."

It was a beautiful house. It really was. It was only slightly smaller than a mansion, but it was still the kind of house that only those who could afford real diamonds and pearls could buy. Everything on the inside and outside was white—so bright and pure like the first fall of snow. The architecture of the house was rectangular, with large, white opulent pillars that surrounded the house, holding up the roof. There was even a mini pool in the spacious backyard. The grass surrounding the house was so incredibly luscious and green, and there were rose bushes with fully bloomed flowers so rich in crimson color that outlined the entire base of the house. Already, in that single space belonging solely to the Dulcis Mendacium Villa, there seemed to be so much more color and life than what existed in the red-light district.

Already, Mirajane was in a completely different world.

Who knew that a forty-five minute drive could bring that much change? Was paradise really that close by? Or was it really that far away? At that moment, Mirajane wasn't quite sure what to make of it all. Everything had already altered so much…and more changes were surely to come.

_This_ was what happiness was: a large, beautiful house, one's own walk-in closet, full of luxurious things, a large fur rug, softer than any other animal, a music room, pool, and basically everything a person could ever desire. It was all here, inside the Dulcis Mendacium Villa. And now, it all belonged to Mirajane, if not for just this time period she would be living here.

So, then why was it that as Mirajane sat alone on the king sized bed, having already explored the entire grand house, regardless of her circumstances, she felt so incredibly _unhappy?_ She pursed her lips and dared to look up from her hands she had been fiddling with. The large bedroom was dark, with only the moonlight shining in through the glass balcony doors to her right. Left on the ground, near the open door to her left was her old luggage that held the few items she owned. Directly across from her was a large vanity mirror and fancy makeup desk. In the mirror, she could see herself sitting on the white comforters of the large bed, and she suddenly felt so small.

In her black dress, Mirajane stood out clearly against the white. But she appeared only as a small black spot, ruining the purity that surrounded her. She dropped her gaze and looked at her new large sleeping space, beginning to run a hand over the soft surface. Then she began to wonder how her younger siblings were doing. Was Elfman using her bed? Was he sleeping better? How about Lisanna? Was she awake now? Were they going to be okay without her there? _Yes. _Elfman was there. He could take care of them both. She knew he would—but that couldn't stop her from worrying. If only her siblings could live with her here…

Mirajane slid her hand down further across the surface until she was lying down and closed her eyes for a little bit. She could feel the bed molding itself to her entire body. It was so comfortable. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling where a medium-sized chandelier hung; there were a lot of those throughout the house, varying in size and design, but all quite beautiful. She inhaled deeply, releasing the air in a long drawl. The air was clean here. There wasn't any particular scent inside the large house when she walked in, making her believe that no one had been living here for some time now.

_It must be hard to be a house,_ was what passed through Mirajane's thoughts. There were so many things houses experienced. They were like a treasure chest full of so many magnificent memories, but they were also like a locked up dungeon full of horrible, dark secrets and awful terrors. And then, like the house she now resided in, they must be so very lonely. No matter how many fancy, expensive decors that embellished the house on the inside, it could never fill the empty void of having nobody living inside of them. That's why it was a good thing houses weren't actual living entities. _But I am, _she ended the thought.

Mirajane rolled to her side, bringing her knees close to her chest. She was very well aware of the open air that surrounded her. Of the silence. She really tried to ignore it at first, but there was absolutely no denying it. It was very lonely here—something she knew she now would be for quite a while. Too bad the house wasn't actually a real living thing.

Nighttime passed.

The sun began to rise.

Time ticked by.

However, it all happened at an insufferably, surreal slow pace. Mirajane did everything she could to not lose her mind by going through _everything _inside the house. From looking through all the expensive dresses in the walk-in closet, to opening every drawer she could find, as well as picking up every weird little object and examining it closely, she was sure she now knew this house like the back of her hand. She never thought she'd actually find true joy for when the time finally came to meet with the men in striped suits, but once she heard the much awaited knock on the white front doors, she started to believe that maybe…just maybe…

When Mirajane opened the front door, her small distaste she had grown for the Black Dragon's minions stayed the same. She supposed some things just could never change. Maybe it was because she knew they were monsters. But even so, she was still a bit pleased to see that they didn't choose to arrive in the late afternoon. There were two of them who stood at the front porch, and one of them she was surprised to see that she recognized. The man to her right was the same tall man who had accompanied the shorter one the first night they approached her and brought her to their boss. This was just one of those things where you didn't need to see someone's face to just _know _it was them based off of their physical characteristics. The man beside the taller man in stripes to her left was the one who handed her an envelope and spoke to her, though.

"This is from the boss. It has instructions on what will happen the next few days. When the night comes, we'll be back here to escort you to your first task," he stated.

Then, while Mirajane had her eyes on the envelope in her hands, the two men whose faces remained concealed began walking away to a black glossy car. When she looked up to ask them a question, she could only stand there, holding the envelope dumbly as the black car began to drive out of the roundabout driveway. Her vision of their car was soon blocked by the large water fountain that presented itself grandly in the center of the roundabout. Now, as she stood there alone, all that remained present with her was the sound of trickling water from the water fountain. So…_this_ was all that she waited and agonized over for these past few hours. It took her a moment before she could break out of her frozen state.

When she closed the door, making sure to lock it, Mirajane opened the letter immediately. The smell of ink was stronger than last time. She unfolded the thin piece of paper, finding familiar, neat cursive handwriting, but the words she found on it weren't exactly what she was hoping nor expecting to find:

**1:00 P.M. Practice with Vidaldus  
4:00 P.M. Lessons with Ichiya  
Friday at 6:00 P.M. — Laxus  
****Be ready****.**

"I don't get it," Mirajane voiced. To say the least, she was perplexed. Was she supposed to already know what these times and dates meant? And where it mentions "Friday," did that mean this Friday? Meaning that since today was Sunday, she had five days before she was to meet Laxus? Or what did that man even _mean _when he wrote Laxus' name? Who was Vidaldus? Who was Ichiya? She certainly didn't recall ever hearing their names…

Mirajane pursed her lips. Now that she thought about it, that night when _he _explained his plan to her, all he talked about in detail was what he wanted her to mainly do when it came to Laxus. As for the actual process for her to reach that goal, he merely briefly told her that he'd provide her everything needed in order to accomplish what he wanted, and not to worry, but just follow his guidance. Then he went on to explain how she would have to leave everything behind in order to embark on this offered job of his. For, as the Black Dragon had said: "If you are to capture Laxus' attention, then you must play the part properly. Men like him don't waste their time around scum."

_She had to play the part properly. _Which was why she was to live in such a grand house, with so many grand things inside of it. But that didn't automatically make her ready. It simply gave her a powerful jumpstart. Considering her background, Mirajane didn't know anything about the upper-class world. If she was to play the part properly, then that meant—

A set of strong knocks suddenly sounded off at the front door behind Mirajane in a melodic beat, making her jump. As Mirajane turned her head to look at the door with a confused look on her face—maybe it was the men in stripes realizing they forgot to tell her something very important?—the great grandfather clock that stood against the wall in the lounge room to her right abruptly sounded off its hourly tune. Her head snapped over to the antique, and upon looking at its rustic face, seeing the time, her deep sapphire eyes dropped down to the paper in her hand. It was 1:00 P.M. Then she turned to look at the door. So, who stood behind the door was…

Upon opening the door, Mirajane found not two men in striped suits, but someone completely new: He was maybe a couple inches taller than her, with a masculine stature donned in a black three piece suit and red necktie, his face expression was serious, he had dark bushy eyebrows and long, sleek black hair, parted down the middle, tied back in a low ponytail. In his hand, he seemed to be carrying a leather briefcase of some sort. She knew she'd never met him before, but somehow, the man before her looked familiar. Where had she seen him? In the newspaper? That didn't seem right, though…

"Are you Ms. Mirajane Strauss?" the long-haired man asked her. His voice was smooth and calming.

"Um, yes…?" Mirajane confirmed. "And you are…?"

"Oh, yes. Please excuse my rudeness. I am the one you have been expecting, Vidaldus Taka, the renowned musician from the musical group Trinity Heaven," Vidaldus stated. "We typically perform at formal events and restaurants, such Dieux Saints. My last event was for the wedding of millionaire, Benjamin Realight's daughter."

"Oh…?" Mirajane said in awe. She still wasn't sure what to say to him, nor was she sure if she should let him into the house. He could always be a fraud, but he didn't seem like it. Plus, if the name on her paper was right, then this was the man she was supposed to be expecting, apparently.

Vidaldus simply stared at her pleasantly, almost expectantly, and that's when Mirajane finally opened the door wider and invited him in. "Please," she curtly said, giving him a smile.

"Why thank you, the heat was beginning to get to me," he said with a laugh.

Mirajane hesitantly closed the door behind the man once he stepped inside, catching a glimpse of a much too familiar black car out in the driveway, and as she turned to him, she stopped. His _hair_. It wasn't simply long—it was _incredibly _long, reaching way past his waist. This man had hair longer than hers! She blinked, beginning to wonder if her image of the upper-class this whole time was correct or not, but before she could delve too much into her thoughts, Vidaldus spoke up.

"Ah, so this is what the Dul'Men Villa looks like on the inside," he said in wonder. "It's quite lovely, indeed, just as people say. I heard its design was inspired by the Greek temples, and I can see how it is…" He then turned to face Mirajane. "Especially the outside. It looks just like a Greek temple."

"Um…yeah!" Mirajane agreed. Her brain was running slow with his words. "Uh…" She sighed heavily. "Okay, I'm sorry, Mr. Taka, but could you please remind me what you're purpose here is?" she asked with a tight smile. She didn't care what he thought of her, all she wanted to know was what his purpose coming here was.

"Please, call me Vidaldus, and oh!—your uncle didn't tell you?" Vidaldus exclaimed.

Uncle? Mirajane pursed her lips. Was _that_ what the Black Dragon had referred himself as? Her _uncle?_ But…she supposed it was better than calling himself her father or brother. She could accept uncle.

"Well," Vidaldus continued, "he told me that you apparently had been asked on such a short notice to perform at the famous Italian restaurant, Rosa Nera, as a guest solo singer for this Friday"—Mirajane could only nod her head slowly, as if she knew what he was talking about—"and so, he asked me to come help you practice and act as your voice instructor so that you may give the audience an unforgettable performance."

"Oh! I see…" Mirajane graciously said, momentarily glancing down at the letter in her hand before quickly folding it back up and placing it back inside the envelope. She then nonchalantly clasped her hands behind her back, switching hands the letter was in, before directing Vidaldus straight across the room with her free hand where some double doors were left wide open, leading to a spacious room with a glossy grand piano in the corner. She was now beginning to understand what the names, times, and date meant on the letter, and she had a fairly clear idea of what was expected of her, but there was still one thing that she wasn't sure of. It was the other unknown name on the letter.

"Ah, splendid! You have a music room!" Vidaldus was saying with a large smile on his face as he entered the bright, sunlit room. "This is perfect," he said, walking straight over to the grand piano and setting his briefcase atop the red-cushioned piano bench.

Mirajane, who followed slowly behind him, watched as Vidaldus opened his briefcase excitedly, humming some unknown happy tune, and pulled out a bundle of music sheets. He went on to hand her a set of papers while setting up four other pages on the piano music stand. When she read the title at the top of the first page, she gritted her teeth. "'The Heart of a Damsel,'" she said aloud, the words coming out more as a question than how she meant for it to.

"Yes, isn't that what you were planning on singing?" Vidaldus asked, closing his briefcase and setting it down on the white marble floor as he sat down on the piano bench. "I think it's an excellent choice. It _is_ a classic song, after all, coming second to 'Magnolia's Anthem.' Everyone knows it. You really can't go wrong with it."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Mirajane said quietly. "Everyone loves it." While she absolutely _hated _it.

"Well then, shall we start practicing it?" Vidaldus asked much to Mirajane's dismay.

She knew the words well—in fact, perfectly. So, practicing the song wasn't very hard for her to do, at least, it shouldn't have been. But her voice was strained as she sang, and Vidaldus wasn't having any of that. But how could she possibly sing a song she hated absolutely _everything _about? She hated the tune. She hated the title. And most of all, she hated the lyrics. "The Heart of a Damsel" was exactly about what the title was implying. The only thing wrong with it was that it was forgetting the words "in distress" at the end of the title.

This song was incredibly well-known among all the girls in Magnolia, and if possible, even more so to those who lived in the red-light district. There was hardly ever a day that passed where Mirajane didn't catch the tune or words of the song somewhere, haunting the filthy streets. However, while the lyrics remained the same, there was a completely different meaning to this song for those belonging to the lower-class, compared to those in the upper-class. It was a much darker meaning, which was why it was the starring song at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, sung by the one and only: Aphrodite. The girls always knew that a special client was in the crowd when Aphrodite was on stage to perform "The Heart of a Damsel."

"No, no, no, no, _no!_ You're doing it _all wrong!_" Vidaldus exclaimed in frustration. "You _sing _from the bottom of your tummy at this part! It's supposed to be long and beautiful, like my hair! I don't know how, but you're making it fouler and harder than it should be! If you weren't actually good at singing, I'd have long abandoned you!"

Mirajane concealed her grimace behind a sweet, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Today is just not my day…" They had been practicing for almost two hours already, and her voice was becoming a bit coarse. "Maybe if we took a break for now, and got back to it tomorrow, I'll do a lot better…"

Vidaldus really must've just about had it with her, for he agreed all too quickly and was just as fast to leave. When Mirajane opened the door for him, waving him goodbye with the most pleasant of smiles, she released everything in a heavy sigh as his car drove away. _Finally. _She could breathe and drop the polite act. Her deep sapphire eyes stared at the clear aquamarine water that poured out of the overflowing ruffled bowl in the middle of the large water fountain of the roundabout. The water from the bowl flowed down to the large base of the fountain which ceramic mermaids swam in, where water that sprayed upwards in an arch from the top out of fish mouths landed in.

She pursed her lips.

"'_Like my hair,'_" Mirajane sneered, closing the door gently and starting to run her hands through her own starlight hair. She knew not to take her frustrations out on people or things. She also knew why Vidaldus seemed familiar to her. The truth was that she _had _in fact seen him before, and in person, too. He was the voice instructor at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, who tutored Aphrodite. That was one thing he forgot to mention during his little introduction of himself earlier, and it certainly had to be secret business. Although this sort of thing really shouldn't surprise her, so she chose not to let it.

Mirajane let her hair slip out of her hands and she gazed over at the great grandfather clock in the lounge room. Then she turned and headed back into the piano room where her own copy of "The Heart of a Damsel" laid on the piano bench. She picked up the set of papers and stared at the words and music notes that lined the lyrics in its all too dreary tune. It was no wonder why Vidaldus got so upset with her when she purposefully sang it off course, but not out of tune. She really did hate this song. She almost felt like the Black Dragon was trying to turn her into Aphrodite, but in a classier realm. Her lips turned downwards. She didn't want to become another Aphrodite.

So, she simply wasn't going to. She wasn't going to sing this song at the Rosa Nera. Instead, she was going to create a new role for herself to become: Persephone.

With that finalized and set in stone in her now allaying heart, Mirajane ventured out of the room and down the hallway to a room she remembered where a polished wooden work desk with some fine ink pens and paper existed. Once she gathered everything she wanted, she headed back to the music room and sat down at the piano bench, setting the blank sheets of paper on the piano music stand with a fountain pen ready in her right hand. Instead of singing what she couldn't bear to sing, she was going to create something she _could_ sing. Something she could sing from the bottom of her heart and give the audience an unforgettable, authentic performance. Something that could capture their hearts, and if not everyone's, then at least _his _heart. After all, this performance was for Laxus. Was it not?

Anyhow, Mirajane always secretly wanted to become a singer, so this was the perfect opportunity for her to give it her best shot.

Time passed again.

This time, it flew right on by, and before Mirajane knew it, there was another set of knocks at the front door and the great grandfather clock was sounding its hourly toll. It was 4:00 P.M. Now, it was time for her to finally meet this Ichiya-person and find out what their purpose in coming here was. She took in a deep breath and set the pen down. As she stood up and headed to the front door, she fixed up her black dress and pushed her hair back behind her shoulders so that it was out of the way. What waited at the door for her, however, was something she wasn't sure if she could possibly forget. Ever. And she quickly found that out the second she opened the door, ready to greet whoever it was with her charming smile—

The strongest smell of men's perfume had crashed straight over her like a tsunami wave once the door had cracked open. And it didn't simply stop there. Oh _no. _The scent had apparently flooded the entire front area of the house the second she opened the door, and it only spread further the moment she invited the four men who stood before her in stylish suits inside. She learned her mistake later that next morning when she found their perfume had lingered—and ever since, she made sure to open the windows whenever they came over, and leave them open until the night breeze had swept everything away with it into the mysterious dark world.

"_Men!" _was the starter to their first meeting and conversation.

Mirajane gritted her teeth, but her smiling face remained the same.

"We have been blessed with a true, natural goddess! Let us make sure we take very good care of her! For, she is after all in the best hands of beauty and etiquette in all of Magnolia, and perhaps even Fiore itself as a whole!" the shortest man of the four, who seemingly was the leader of the other three men, dressed in a white suit coat and pants with a blue rose pinned to his left breast, but no dress shirt underneath, whose head maybe reached Mirajane's waist, stated confidently, striking a pose.

"For a beauty like her, I'll tend to her any day!" the dirty blonde-haired boy in a coral button-up shirt and black slacks and vest with wings on it, who was about the same height as Vidaldus, standing behind the shortest man's right shoulder, agreed, posing.

"You can count on us, Miss!" the next shortest with golden blonde hair, dressed in a pastel yellow button-up with a striped tie and black slacks, standing to the left of the shortest man's shoulder, said, posing.

"Does she really even need our help?" the tannest with dark brown hair, dressed in a cotton candy blue button-up with a black suit coat and matching slacks, about the same height as the other taller boy, standing slightly behind the golden blonde-haired boy, questioned, posing.

Mirajane was…speechless. She had never come across men like them before. She had certainly seen weird, strange, and creepy, but _this_—what was displayed before her—was a brand new level of a word she wasn't even sure how to describe them. Somehow, despite their cheap words and cheesy stances, the four men managed to carry a certain class and elegance about themselves. She was sure that somewhere miraculously everywhere out there, these four men were quite the lady-killers. Even the shortest, with strawberry blonde suave hair, and not quite a nearly as handsome and young physique the other three men had, was surely charming in his own ways…

"_Men!"_

But she was seriously going to have to reconsider everything in order for that to be true. Was it really necessary for him to keep saying "_men_" like that? And she really didn't need to see any part of his bare chest.

"Let us not be rude and introduce ourselves properly," the shortest man claimed. He pulled out a red rose from inside his white suit coat and handed it to Mirajane. "I am Ichiya Vandalay Kotobuki, pleased to be at your service," he said with a gallant low bow. "There will be no need to be formal with us, so you may just call me Ichiya."

"Oh?" was all Mirajane could utter, managing a pleasant smile on her face.

Then the dirty blond-haired boy swept in, handing Mirajane another red rose as he caressed her face with his other hand, feathering his touch against her porcelain skin as his fingers brushed down to her chin and gently lifted it so they were eye to eye. He was slightly hunched over and his face was incredibly close to hers. In fact, too close. "And I am Hibiki Lates," he said in a hushed alluring tone. "For you, I'll do anything."

Sounds weren't even possible at that point for Mirajane. All she could do was manage communication with her facial expressions. Her heart was pounding hard.

Before Mirajane knew it, the golden-haired boy was standing in place of Hibiki, and he had her free hand in his while his lips pressed gently against the back of her hand. "Miss, nothing can make me happier than to be of your service," he said. "I am Eve Tearm." He then handed her another rose.

Finally, it came to the last guy who hadn't introduced himself yet, and he had shown up at Mirajane's side with an arm draped over her shoulders, making her jump. It took every ounce of control she had in herself to not shake his arm off of her, steal her hand swiftly away to her chest when Eve had kissed it, and shove Hibiki out of her personal bubble when he appeared in front of her. The only one who had the courtesy enough to respect her space was Ichiya. Now she was beginning to understand how he ruled higher than the other three men, despite every appeal he seemed to lack as a man; and if there ever was a day she had to choose between the four…she might just actually choose Ichiya.

"Here, I picked this rose just for you," the dark brown-haired boy was saying, handing Mirajane another rose to her now small bouquet of red roses. "Its beauty enraptured my heart…but as a secret between you and me," he said, now becoming bashful, "yours overpowers it." He cleared his throat and looked away, as if to hide his face—_he was actually blushing?!_—then he said: "My name is Ren Akatsuki. I hope to be of perfect service to you."

Now, all four men stood in sync before Mirajane and bent down on one knee in proposal, and in a chorus they said: "We are of the Blue Pegasus beauty and etiquette services!"

"As requested by your uncle, we will help you become…" Ichiya began.

"…even more beautiful…" Hibiki continued.

"…informed of the upper-class society…" Eve went on.

"…educated in proper mannerisms…" Ren added.

"…and, most importantly, everything else necessary to transform you into a proper lady of real class," Ichiya ended.

"We look forward to working with you," all four men said together harmoniously, bowing their heads with their right hand over their heart and the other behind their backs.

That was when Mirajane noticed some pruning shears left carelessly out in the open on the grass, and one of the rose bushes nearby seemed less plentiful in flowers compared to all the other rose bushes. Her grip on the roses in her hand tightened. _Oh boy. _This was going to be interesting…

Without further ado, Mirajane finally reined in her poise and said with a sweet smile gracing her features: "Welcome! I'm Mirajane Strauss. I look forward to working with you as well!"

* * *

**Thanks so so so much for reading! :)**


	7. Days with the Trimens

**5**

* * *

The following days to come were long and partly dreadful. Mirajane wasn't sure how much longer she could handle Vidaldus. He was just so…just so…_toodangpickyforhisownrottenworth! _But of course, she couldn't say anything to him, nor could she say anything against him. She couldn't even bring herself to tell him that she was working on writing her own song. But since it sounded like he wouldn't be able to make an appearance to her performance this Friday evening, there wasn't too much for her to worry about anyways. So, instead of leaking such futile information to Vidaldus, she went ahead and suffered through the next few days, singing the very song she hated the absolute most.

Really, there was nothing Mirajane hated more than the song, "The Heart of a Damsel." Other than monsters. She wasn't sure if Vidaldus was a monster or not, but if he wasn't that, then she was certain he was a snake. There was something about him that seemed very off, and it wasn't the fact that she knew he was someone in alignment with the Black Dragon, nor because he was a peculiar male being who cared an _awful _lot for his long black mane. From what she was beginning to conclude, based off of her observations of his fast mood swings and characteristic changes, it almost seemed as if he possibly had a split personality…

Vidaldus was much like a coiled snake whose tail couldn't be seen—Mirajane only knew of the taunting leer of what could be found on the head. What waited on the other end, however…there definitely had to be another face he was hiding. She had caught small glimpses of it, and it was still unclear, but she was becoming certain that it wasn't just a tail on the other end.

As for the other men Mirajane now had to associate with for the same days she met with Vidaldus, well…despite their pushy ways and touchy habits, they certainly weren't anything near monsters. They were just…_annoying. _

"Mirajane!"

"Miss Mirajane!"

"Mirajane!"

"You really are the absolute best! No other girl could wear such a dress and look that fabulous!" Hibiki complimented in all grandeur. Even though he meant well and was praising her, something about it coming from his mouth didn't make it seem like it was that grand of a compliment.

There was now three more days until it was Friday. _Gosh, _how was she supposed to survive all of this until then? At least Mirajane found _some_ delight when in the presence of the men from Blue Pegasus, and they hardly lectured her. In fact, compared to Vidaldus, they never yelled at her. They never made her feel bad. And they never degraded her. She supposed that's what separated their field of work from the other, but it also revealed how they genuinely treated women—even if their job did influence it. Always, somehow in some way, a person's true form was present in the shadow of their persona.

"Can you turn this way?" Eve politely asked. He was currently bent down on the ground, examining Mirajane's feet that were now in three-inch strappy heels.

After having gone through introductions on Sunday and briefing over what would happen the following days, the four men from Blue Pegasus decided they'd start their first day by properly getting to know one another first so that Mirajane could be at ease. They apparently could tell how stiff and uncomfortable she was the second they approached and touched her. They did apologize for that, but they also gave her a warning that they probably wouldn't stop because it was just a part of their manly nature when it came to something "so beautiful and lovely." They told her that she shouldn't be afraid when in the presence of a real man (or in other words, any of the four of them), for, as Ichiya had said in stead for them all: "Real men have the desire to protect women, not harm them. And that's all we really want to do for you…other than help you become a real lady."

To say the least, it did actually help put her at a little more ease and not feel the strongest urge to jerk away from their touch because as she came to witness and experience, their words actually matched their conduct. But the feeling to jerk away didn't completely disappear. It just became easier to cope with.

When Monday came around, just as it had been planned out the previous day, the men from Blue Pegasus went over everything Mirajane needed to know about the upper-class society. From reviewing past events in newspapers to the most recent jazz in fashion and tabloid magazines, the four men taught Mirajane of _everything _possible that could be brought up in conversation among those of the upper-class. She now knew the latest gossip about actress Sherry Blendy who created a drama romance scene with co-star model Lyon Vastia, to also knowing about the train wreck of St. Bernard's back in the 1850's, which was the cause of millionaire Bert Bernard's death, for he had been riding the train that fateful day. She was also very well aware of the current issue in politics (although she already knew about most of it), and Magnolia's latest problem with uprising gangsters whose whereabouts and objectives were typically always unknown. DeLustria was apparently the number one wanted gang by officials. There were two notorious organizations for stopping crime and fixing problems, no matter how minor, which was Fairy Tail and Thunder Dragon, who were both currently in the prolonged process of capturing DeLustria. And then there was all of the information about the people reining the upper-class world—however, that was all to be saved for discussions at dinner on Thursday.

Monday had been an exceptionally long, long, long day. But Mirajane didn't hate it. She actually enjoyed learning about Magnolia's history and latest gossip.

Now, it was currently Tuesday. For this day, they were to start going over some basic mannerisms and etiquette, and that all apparently started with the perfect dress and heels.

"Now can you turn this way?" Eve asked again.

Mirajane followed the blonde-haired boy's orders silently, now used to having four pairs of eyes intently staring at her, and not necessarily in a hungry way. It was more innocent, adoring, and appreciative, really. Despite their tactless ways, these four "notorious"—or so they had proclaimed to her, proving their statement by showing her their achievements that made the newspapers the previous day—men from Blue Pegasus beauty services, who apparently had earned their own group name publicly known as the Trimens, for they always worked together as a team and were fairly popular among the ladies, they were actually quite respectful and chivalrous. Granted, their form of respect was close to the edge of harassment—but they were incredibly noble and made sure to take care of Mirajane properly. Surprisingly.

"All right! It seems like it's a perfect fit and balance!" Eve finally declared. "Miss Mirajane should be able to walk in full grace in these shoes! The fit and sizing of these shoes are a lot better than the last pair—she definitely would've had the mishap of another falter occur, and we can't let something like that happen! Especially when it never could possibly be her fault—it'd be the actual shoe's fault."

As Eve had subtly announced, Mirajane had the misfortune of tripping earlier while wearing a different pair of heels. Ichiya was the one to catch her when she fell forward, with a surprisingly firm arm placed carefully around the front of her torso; he was very cautious about where he touched her when he helped her find her balance back on her feet. If only he could be thoughtful with his choice of words, too. Had he opted out saying "men" in such an unnecessary provocative tone as a means to grunting his pains for catching her weight in stubby arms that weren't built in strength, Mirajane might've actually not felt that slight natural disgust that came whenever only he came near her—_especially_ when he touched her. The only good thing that came from Mirajane tripping was that it kicked out the sparkling thousand gemmed heels as a candidate for the heels she could be wearing to her upcoming performance. Those glamorous heels weren't her style. But the Trimens had stated that she wear every pair of heels that she had in her closest that seemed worthy of formal events, for while appearance was incredibly important, her ability to walk smoothly, yet with a carefree nature, was also just as important, and the only way to determine that was to have her try every pair of shoes they deemed worthy.

Now, however, rather than having her practice walking and tryout shoes at the same time all for her safety, the Trimens were having Mirajane stand in several stances, placing the weight of her foot in different areas of the heels while Eve carefully examined each set of heels and determined their security and worthiness. Ostensibly, the design of a shoe could be the true culprit to the reason people often tripped out in public; it wasn't always because of that unevenness in the roads, but it could simply be because there was too much weight placed in the front of the shoe; or maybe the sole of the shoe was created slightly shorter in height compared to its matching pair. The reasons actually went on and on, but Eve had stated they could educate Mirajane more on that another time. Right now, they were to focus on finding the perfect pair of heels.

They had already found the perfect dress, which the Trimens made Mirajane immediately put on the second they spotted it phenomenally all at the same time. It was almost as if there was a pillar of light that had shined down on the dress once they came marching into the large walk-in closet and halted. The dress was the first one in line on the rack. Mirajane had at first run into the back of Hibiki, who was at the end of the Trimens train with Ichiya in the front and Eve and Ren to follow after, until she finally craned her body over to the side and peered at the only, fully visible dress in sight. This dress, Mirajane soon discovered after putting it on, she actually liked and could give credit to the Trimens for picking it out on first sight. It was elegant and flowy, comfortable, and she had the freedom to move in it however she liked without worrying about it tearing or stretching somewhere thanks to the long slit it had.

"Those heels look exceptionally well on her, don't they?" Hibiki stated over to Ichiya.

Ichiya, who was in a thinking position and sitting on the piano bench that was moved to the center of the room, for they had decided the music room was the best place to practice walking, agreed promptly. "Hm. But so do all of the other pairs of heels. Was that the last pair?" he asked.

Ren, who was in charge of the organization of the shoes, shook his head to the side. "No, we have one last pair," he said, holding up said pair of classy black heels.

"Hmm—no, those don't match the look. Put them in the discard pile," Ichiya said with the wave of his hand. "We want something that's _sexy_—" he posed—"_elegant_—" another pose—"and _perfect"—_the final pose—"for a summer night."

Mirajane heaved out a sigh, relieved she wouldn't have to try on another pair of shoes. It was now finally over. Almost.

Ren simply nodded his head and set the black pair of heels beside an arrangement of nine other pairs of shoes Mirajane had already tried on, yet had been disqualified by Eve's final judgement. Beside the neat setup was another sectioned group of heels, which merely consisted of two other pairs Mirajane had tried on which had been given positive remarks. So, it was now down to three pairs of shoes. How would the Trimens pick? Mirajane knew which pair she personally liked out of the three, but she wasn't sure if her opinion mattered, so she kept her lips sealed.

But to Mirajane's surprise, as Hibiki, Ren, and Eve began declaring their opinions and preferences about which heel looked best, Ichiya boomed: "Let's have Mirajane choose. As the wearer of the shoes, and a woman with a natural sense in fashion, only she will know which shoes will offer her the best comfort and stability, as well as complimenting features for the dress."

It had to have been a miracle. That's what Mirajane first thought when Ichiya had said the words she wasn't expecting to hear. But she later learned that Ichiya knew how much she wanted to choose based off of where her eyes remained the longest, and those were the pairs of shoes he himself had thought looked best, too, so he had entrusted her to make the right decision because he knew she would. And from that small fashion scenario, it was the seed of a true trust and admiration Ichiya had begun to grow for Mirajane. What made that seed fully bloom into its greatest beauty was when he had her choose out of the five perfumes she had on her vanity desk which one she would be using on the day of her performance.

So, Mirajane picked out the pair of shoes she wanted immediately, and that finally completed her outfit. She now had the perfect dress and heels. Now, the Trimens could finally begin their lesson and have her practice how to walk, keep her back straight, and body always at a flattering angle that would surely capture everyone's eyes—even Laxus'. The Trimens weren't aware of Laxus being her main target, but her so-called uncle had apparently mentioned that he wanted her to be able to attract the greater figures in the upper-class, and that he only hoped she would be wed to one, for she deserved only the best—and "_best" _was a word that played an incredibly important role. The Black Dragon must have known that small detail, for the Trimens took their job—her—very seriously. They always seemed to reference Laxus.

Once Mirajane mastered walking, the Trimens went on to teach her how to sit properly. Then they went on to teaching her table manners. And then like the sun that had already set, leaving Magnolia in darkness, the day was over, as well as the Trimens' lessons.

When the Trimens came back over on Wednesday, they went over more important mannerisms and etiquette, but it wasn't for Mirajane to do, it was so she was aware of how the men were supposed to act and treat her. They first gave her clues on how to understand the personality of a man, and whether or not he was a true brute or not and if he would treat her properly before they created live scenarios and had her go through situations with Hibiki, Ren, and Eve while Ichiya played director. Then they changed the setting, giving her warnings and teaching her of shady things that could happen and how to respond because associating with the upper-class didn't always mean she would be safe from dark acts and dangerous tactics—especially for women of her caliber, who lived alone, had the riches to sustain her own living, and was the natural beauty goddess she was blessed to be. _Oh, if only they knew her true upbringing..._ Other than that lingering reality that hid in Mirajane's shadow, Wednesday was all fun and laughter.

On Thursday, Mirajane had dinner with the Trimens. It was a roleplay dinner meant to help her practice everything she had learned Tuesday and Wednesday, all while they began their discussion on the golden figures in the upper-class world. She learned of the main influencers among the millionaires and billionaires, and about their wives who all seemed to come from great, founding families of Magnolia; she learned bits and pieces about their children, too, which some were close to her age, living the Fiore Dream. Laxus and his grandfather, Makarov, were actually one of the central topics they talked about. It seemed that the Trimens idolized Laxus, for not only was he a "handsome man" with "noble traits" and a "true man among the men," but he was also incredibly strong and successful. It seemed like nobody compared to Laxus, and he was still so young, too—so why was it that he was still _alone?_ From what Mirajane could conclude, it sounded like there were plenty of amazing, beautiful daughters of those millionaires and billionaires who were her age or maybe slightly older—more mature and a real woman—who were single and at that age where their bountiful parents tried to find them a nice, handsome, young rich man to marry off to so that they could have their happily-ever-after.

It honestly all seemed a bit off, and because Mirajane couldn't take her mind off of the facts she had just learned surrounding Laxus, making her become even more concerned on whether or not she'd actually be able to pull off making him fall in love with her—or at least gain his trust—she didn't hear some of the last bits Ichiya was talking about when it came to a couple of other rich men that could potentially be candidates for her. She also missed the last bit about how some of them could be particularly aggressive when it came to something they wanted.

After their roleplay dinner and educating discussion, there was only one final thing that the Trimens needed to teach Mirajane: How to dance. While Ichiya played the piano, Ren played the violin, and Eve played the cello, Hibiki acted as Mirajane's dance partner and twirled her across the spacious music room in the evening glow. He was a bit too extravagant in his movements for her, but she truly did enjoy it, and because she was already gifted at dancing, that happy moment was short-lived. But that evening was when she rediscovered how much she truly loved dancing; however, ever since she became a courtesan, she had forgotten all about the joys that came with it. She really didn't even mind that her partner had to be Hibiki. It's not like he wasn't charming, but he did come off as a bit of a player, so she knew to keep her space. Plus, it's not like she could actually fall for someone like him. He wasn't her type. What even _was_ her type? She had never bothered to think about it before…because she never thought she could ever fall for a man. They were all monsters...weren't they?

In another time lapse where her thoughts took over, and everything around her passed by in a blur of unclear words and movements, Mirajane suddenly found herself standing outside in the cool air, hardly having any remembrance of what had exactly happened that led up to the event that was now about to take place in the Dulcis Mendacium Villa's backyard swimming pool.

"And that, my Dear, puts an end to our lessons. Congratulations, Mirajane. You managed to excel in everything these past few days with absolute grace, and now…we must celebrate your success by relaxing in the pool and having fun!" Ichiya declared as he now stood at the tip of the low diving board with his right finger in the air and his left hand on his hip, clad in a bright red swim brief—a sight Mirajane honestly thought could've been punishment—but she smiled pleasantly, quickly understanding the situation, and clapped her hands excitedly while Hibiki, Ren, and Eve, who stood beside her in their colorful swim trunks cheered happily.

"_Men,_" Ichiya called to a final attention, "let the fun begin!" and then he jumped off the diving board into the crystal clear pool with a classic dive, rippling the smooth surface of the water.

Following right after Ichiya were his three men, which Mirajane had come to realize over the past few days that they were his biggest fans. In fact, they seemed to think Ichiya was on par with Laxus, and even though she still had yet to meet Laxus and had only heard many things about him, she was beginning to see that the world Hibiki, Ren, and Eve lived in was clearly a separate tiny world from the bigger one she and everybody else resided in. She found it all quite ridiculous at first. But now that she had spent these past few days with them and had gotten to truly know them in such a short time period, she had grown accustomed to their ways and found a liking towards them.

Mirajane tugged at the soft material of her plain white swimsuit which hugged the curves of her upper body. She kind of remembered going through the drawers in the walk-in closet and ultimately choosing this swimsuit; it was the most decent looking one. The swimsuit she currently wore was like a tight mini dress, except the material was meant for water; at least, that's what it was supposed to be made for, but from the feel of it, she had a feeling it was still a bit impractical. She then looked up at the swimming pool and pursed her lips. Maybe she'd sit this one out, and just enjoy the atmosphere by lounging in one of the sun chairs…

Mirajane wandered over to the closest white sun chair and sat down on the cushioned surface. It was now around 7:30 P.M., so the sun had almost sunk down far below, out of sight in the sky, taking its warmth from this part of the world. There was a slight cool breeze in the air that made her want to go find a blanket to wrap up in. It wasn't actually summer yet—it was still spring, so the nights got fairly cold still, but the daytime weather was always nice. It was a wonder to her how the Trimens could really enjoy swimming when it wasn't quite warm enough for that kind of activity in the evening time.

Mirajane sighed as she rested her deep sapphire blue eyes on the four men in the clear blue pool who shoved water on each other like they were still children and screamed with an unlikely sound at the sudden splash-attacks. A gentle smile graced her lips. _Idiots. _But really…despite that, she had to thank them for everything. Because without them, she may not be able to feel this relaxed about everything. She had a lot of fun these past few days. She didn't feel as alone. She also got to experience a lot of new things. Like today…

This was the first time Mirajane had ever worn a swimsuit. This was also the first time she had ever been given the chance to go swimming. Despite this large property now belonging to her, she still had yet to try out everything, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to get herself to do it. How many times she had gazed out at the pool and wondered what it'd be like to float in it and enjoy the feel of the sun slowly melting her skin…but she could never bring herself to get a swimsuit on and try it out. Not that she really had a whole lot of time to herself these past few days, but she still had her mornings.

Inhaling deeply, Mirajane looked up at the partly cloudy sky. It was such a lovely color. The clouds reflected a pastel pink, while the sky was a mixture of blues, violets, and pinks that all blended together like a water-colored painting. She really had never known it could look like this…it was like she had never actually seen the sky before this whole entire time.

For a while, Mirajane remained as she was, staring up at the sky while the colors became darker. It was peaceful. The sounds of their happy laughter, the cool breeze against her bare skin, the brush of her starlight hair against her shoulders, the sweet smell of roses…everything was just right. Perfect. _Almost. _There was something missing…

"Mirajane."

Mirajane turned to look at the source of the familiar voice, and she smiled even wider, making sure to not allow her eyes to wander anywhere down. "Are you guys done playing?" she asked.

Ichiya, who stood dripping wet with his strawberry blonde hair brushed back, shook his head to the side. "Aren't you going to come in?" he questioned.

"Hmm…" Mirajane hummed in thought. "I don't know…I wasn't really planning on it…"

Ichiya looked back at Hibiki, Ren, and Eve, who now had gotten tired from playing in the waters and were each hooked onto a single, clear pink floating doughnut tube that Mirajane did not remember being there from the start. His gaze then moved up to the heavens. On the inside, he was cursing himself for not having any relic inspirational quote at hand to say (something he was going to work on once he got home) and instead opted to saying whatever words he could sew together that would hopefully create the outcome he wanted: "There are moments you can never relive twice. So while you can, make sure you have the most fun possible, and take every chance you get to create unforgettable memories."

When Ichiya didn't get an immediate response, he hesitantly turned to look at the starlight-haired beauty, almost a little nervous to see the result of his words, only to find her not looking at him, but at the sky. She had a blank face. But after a few long moments, she blinked and set her eyes straight, shortly after coming to a stand. She then began her walk towards the pool, stopping halfway with her back to him. Then she turned and looked at him with those deep sapphire eyes, and she smiled.

Ichiya was at a loss for words. His face was heating up and he suddenly found himself unable to take his eyes off of her, and not because he was suddenly growing feelings for her. He did care and admire her greatly, but even he knew the limits and when to draw the line between clients. There were plenty of beautiful women he had been blessed to help and beautify…but none had ever become this lovely. None had ever had this much grace. None had ever been this genuine…

The starlight-haired girl walked to the diving board, and she slowly walked to the end that floated inches above the cold, clear waters. A cool breeze drifted by, dancing with the tips of her hair. She could feel all of their eyes on her, but her own were directed up. It's not that Mirajane really took Ichiya's words to heart…but she was able to see a valid point. There was only so much she'd be able to experience while in this temporary life. And if seeing something as lovely as the current sky she had over her was one of the only things she'd ever be able to have while in this life, then she wasn't going to throw away anything else she could possibly have only in this life. Because while she may not be able to have this forever…hopefully, she'd be able to provide this kind of life for her siblings in the future…for, the possibility that it would have to be without her was still there.

Mirajane then dropped her gaze and looked at the men of Blue Pegasus. She smiled widely—her smile was easily contagious, for it spread to each one of their faces within a second—and she jumped in the pool with her legs tucked tightly to her chest.

.

Later that night, Mirajane was in her white room, lying on the large bed with several sheets of papers spread out on the covers around her, with two sheets of paper in her hands. The lamp on the right nightstand was the only light turned on, casting a warm glow throughout the room. She couldn't stop rereading the words she had written, wondering if they were right and okay, but after a few minutes, she was soon fast asleep, absolutely exhausted, but satisfied.

She really had finally finished writing her song.

.

Come Friday, and time suddenly sped up. Since Vidaldus had a performance happening that night at some other high-end restaurant, he couldn't come drill Mirajane that afternoon because he had an earlier rehearsal with his own band, Trinity Heaven. So that gave her extra time to practice her own song she had written, and she needed all the time she could get to practice the tune she had in mind for the past few days. She wasn't educated on how to write actual music, and she had no idea Ichiya and his men were musically talented until Thursday evening, so it wasn't until the same night before that she managed to get the melody she wanted sketched out on actual paper in music notes.

With a brief explanation of what was going on, Mirajane easily had the Trimens' support for her to sing her own song. They made quick work to bring to life the melody she had desired on paper, and they even went so far as to come earlier before their scheduled time so that she could practice singing with actual music in the background. Apparently, Rosa Nera was known for having an excellent band and orchestra, so even with their undetailed music sheets mainly meant for the piano, Rosa Nera's music groups should be able to pick up on the tune and match almost perfectly to the sound Mirajane wanted. All she needed to do was make sure they were aware that she wasn't going to sing the song they were informed she would be singing. Or so the Trimens had informed her.

It wasn't long before the great grandfather clock tolled its hourly sound, telling them it was time for the Trimens' to start getting Mirajane dressed and ready for her performance.

The air was quickly filled with hair spray, and there was soon a man holding each hand of Mirajane's as they worked on her nails, while another stood behind her and did her hair. Hibiki and Eve were in charge of getting her hands groomed while Ren was in charge of doing her hair. And then there was Ichiya, who worked on getting her toenails painted. Before long, Hibiki was leaning over in front of Mirajane, doing her facial makeup, and Eve was picking out accessories and jewelry for her to wear. Ren was almost complete with her hair. Ichiya all the while was lining up all of her perfumes, testing them all on a few strips of colored ribbon and having Mirajane smell them all and think about which one she liked best. She was to decide once they were done.

Finally, it was time, and all four men of Blue Pegasus awaited for Mirajane to descend down the stairs. They had completed getting her ready, all while she sat in a bathrobe, having just barely showered, and they were extremely anxious for seeing what she ultimately looked like. If they were being completely honest, they hadn't actually thought about what everything combined together—the hair, makeup, jewelry, dress, and shoes—would look like. They just did what they thought suited their favorite, beautiful starlight-haired girl best. It was a different method they had never done for any other girl. But something told them that only the best suited her, and they weren't even sure what the best combination was, so they did everything individually, taking over the jobs that they each were best talented in, and made art of their specialties.

"What if the earrings I chose are no good?" Eve was fretting.

"I'm sure you did fine—what I'm more concerned about is her hair! I mean, not that I did bad, but…it wasn't too plain, was it?" Ren sulked.

"Did anybody see the lipstick color I chose for her? Now that I think about it, I'm beginning to think I should have gone with a darker color!—anybody? Did anybody see?" Hibiki panicked.

"I don't really remember what lipstick color you used—was it glossy?" Eve asked.

"Yes! It was the color I hardly ever use on our clients—" Hibki was saying.

"Oh! You used that color?" Ichiya jumped in.

"Yes!"

"Oh...hmmm…"

"Oh no! What will I do if even Ichiya says it's not a good choice?!"

"Ichiya, not that I'm too concerned or anything—but did you see how I did her hair? Do you think it looked okay?" Ren threw in.

"Why hasn't anyone commented on the jewelry I chose for her?" Eve whined.

"Didn't I say—?" Ren started.

"Ichiya!"

"Ichiya!"

"Ichiya!"

"_Men!"_ Ichiya yelled, and the room suddenly fell silent. He then exhaled deeply, folding his arms as he became lost in thought, but then his smell senses began to pick up on a certain scent. His nose scrunched and flared as he sniffed the air. The aroma that now swirled pleasantly in the room—it was fresh, sweet, floral-like, and most importantly, _heavenly intoxicating_. Hm. He knew this smell well. It was his favorite smell out of the five perfumes on her vanity—

Ichiya's eyes widened and he whipped around, turning his gaze up towards the top of the staircase, and surely enough—_there_—there, she stood. In all beauty and grace, it was none other than the one they had been waiting for. It was then in that moment that a few knocks rapped loudly against the front door. _The men in striped suits had arrived_. But none of the men of Blue Pegasus bothered to move. They all stood still with their gazes turned upwards, as if they had been struck by Zeus' lightning bolt.

With jaws gaping down to the floor, and bodies frozen in shock, Ichiya, Hibiki, Ren, and Eve could only gawk in awe as Mirajane began her descent from the top of the stairs. Once she got to the bottom, another few heavy knocks sounded off on the front door. _They were getting impatient. _But still, nobody could bother to care about the ones that waited on the other side of the door. Mirajane simply gave the four men that stood before her a sweet smile. "Well?" she asked. "How do I look?"

But before they could answer, the front door abruptly opened, and two hatted men in striped suits marched in. They carried an urgent air around them that clearly spoke "_hurry up."_

Mirajane pursed her lips, merely glancing at the two uninvited visitors before she returned her attention back to the four men that still stood in a trance before her. She clenched her hands into fists, beginning to feel the pressure of time becoming more compressed, knowing it would eventually become a bomb that would soon explode if she didn't start walking out that front door within the next ten seconds. She really wanted to stay with the Trimens a bit longer…but that was no good, was it? _She had seven seconds to start walking._

Mirajane dropped her gaze to the ground momentarily, but then she looked up and passed her eyes through each member of the Trimens, giving them each a sincere smile. "Thank you…Hibiki, Ren, Eve, and Ichiya…for everything," she finally said, hesitating before she walked past them towards the front door where her escorts waited.

One by one, like they had done the first day they had met Mirajane, Hibiki, Eve, and Ren suddenly broke free and threw out their honest thoughts, aiming their best pose towards her as the words, "Beautiful," and "Gorgeous," and "Stunning" collided with one another, yet passed through the air, loud and clear.

Then Ichiya finally stepped forward in all grandeur with a gleam in his eye, and he did his own spectacular pose in front of the dazzling trio as he said to her: "Mirajane, you look like a billionaire's lady."

Mirajane didn't stop walking. But she grinned, and once the two men in striped suits walked out the door before her and headed towards the modern black carriage that awaited them in the driveway, she turned her head to look back at the Trimens. She then winked while bringing a Victory Hand close beside her right eye—her own departing pose to them.

* * *

**Victory Hand is apparently the name given for the peace hand sign.**

**Also, I just realized I may have left out an incredibly important fact in one of the chapters. I _kind of_ edited chapter 2 because of that (like added a sentence or two). But it's basically in the summary, so I won't say it.**

**Anyways. Thanks so much for reading! :)**


	8. Mirajane's Song

**6**

* * *

Her heart was beating hard. All she could hear was the echo of its steady pumps sounding off in ominous silence.

Mirajane closed her eyes, taking in deep, quiet breaths. Despite her calm demeanor, her insides were a flurry of nerves like a cold winter storm. It was only half an hour. That's how long she had to wait when she arrived at the Rosa Nera before it was time for her performance; the men in striped suits had instructed her of what she was to do upon entering the fancy Italian restaurant. It was all simple, and she should've had plenty of time to rein in her nerves.

But for whatever reason, her blasted nerves were still out of control! Mirajane had done so many performances on stage that she figured she would be perfectly fine. It really shouldn't have been that nerve-wracking. _But it was. _This was the first time she'd be singing in front of an actual audience. This was the first time it actually really mattered how her performance went. This was the first time _he _would be seeing her. At least, that is, if Laxus was even in the crowd. What his first impression of her meant _everything_ to her. In fact, if she couldn't pull this off the right way, she may just lose everything. Laxus wasn't someone who could be fooled so easily by glossy lips and an alluring body. He also wasn't someone who you could just waltz right up to, make friendly conversation with, and expect him to later care about your existence.

The Black Dragon had specific instructions on how Mirajane was to lure Laxus in: She wasn't to approach him, she wasn't to initiate conversation with him, and she wasn't even supposed to _look_ at him. She _was, _however, supposed to capture his attention. In fact, she was supposed to do so in such an enchanting way that would make the great Laxus himselfbe the one who came and approached her, talked with her, and looked at her. _He_ _was supposed to come to her_ _first_. By accomplishing that, Mirajane would actually be able to have a chance at succeeding her job. If she didn't…well…

An image of a gun was all she could think of. And it wasn't in her hands.

Then she saw the painting down the eerie hallway. The one with the creepy skeletal hand outstretched towards you, welcoming you onto the boat.

"Miss?" a voice suddenly called out.

Mirajane looked up with large eyes. She found a middle-aged man with black hair and pale skin standing before her, who clearly worked at the Rosa Nera due to his classy, black formal uniform that matched every other staff members' dress attire.

"It's time."

Mirajane nodded her head, following the direction of the man's gloved hand, making her way out of the small, square lounge room full of red and lavish furniture, meant specifically for the guest performers to rest in before and after their time on stage. When she walked out to the dimly lit hallway, hands clutched tightly in fists, the well-groomed man short in stature stepped out from behind Mirajane and guided her down the hallway. They walked in dead silence. Once they made it to the end, they stopped walking, turning to face their left where an opening was, concealed by velvet, gold-hemmed heavy curtains draped down to the ground.

The short man finally looked to Mirajane and broke the silence, saying: "This is your first time here, right?"

Mirajane simply nodded her head. It was her first time doing a solo performance, too. But that wasn't necessary to say, so she kept her mouth shut.

The man nodded his head. "Okay, so what's going to happen is that I will be opening the curtains, and you'll just keep walking straight to the stage," he explained, making his slight accent become a little more obvious.

"That's it?" Mirajane questioned dumbly. Not that she was complaining, but at the same time...were they not going to do any introductions? Was it really that simple?

Having understood her silent questions quickly, the short man nodded his head. "They already announced you a couple minutes ago. Now you just have to make an entrance. Normally, the performers are already ready, standing here at the curtain—but I hadn't realized this was your first time here, so you must accept my apologies," he said, bowing his head a little.

"Oh, I see," Mirajane politely said with a hint of curtness tracing her words. She stopped to think for a little bit before continuing with: "It's okay. Maybe me missing that grand entrance is a good thing. You know, to be honest, I'm really nervous…and if I don't have as many eyes on me while heading up to the stage, I think it might make me feel less tense." She smiled blindly at the short man beside her before dropping her gaze. Then remembering she needed to be "radiating with confidence," as the Trimens' had told her to do, for that was a key step in capturing a man's heart, she looked up with bold eyes. She almost wished the Trimens could be here to escort her on stage instead. She could really use some of their encouragement now.

After a few moments of silenced passed, Mirajane looked back over to her right, still sensing the short man's presence beside her. He was looking at her with dark eyes full of bewilderment. Why?

After a few mere moments passed, he finally said: "They'll be watching you."

Then the stout man turned around, leaving through a brown, glossy door behind them. Mirajane simply blinked, staring at the door when she suddenly heard a small rustle. She hesitantly looked forward, seeing that the velvet curtain was now being raised.

A bright light was starting to slowly spill into the hallway, filling up to the top until it was drowning Mirajane in it. She stood all alone. And for a second, she was like a deer in headlights. But her hands suddenly loosened, and she took in a deep breath. All of her dark fears were released into in the bright light, vanishing, and as if those fears had never stomped all over her heart and flipped over her stomach abusively, she walked out into the light. Her steps were graceful, and her poise was elegant.

As Mirajane made her way up onto the small platform, completely oblivious of how large the crowd in the room actually was, she looked at the orchestra and band members. They were all changing their music sheets or repositioning their body in their seat. When they all appeared ready and were looking up at her, she nodded her head, and the familiar melody she had rehearsed with the Trimens earlier that day had begun to cascade throughout the room.

She inhaled deeply once again, and exhaling out, she calmly turned around. The room was _massive_.

Mirajane suddenly felt so small, but she made a fast recovery. All it took was the thought of her younger brother and sister, and she could erase all of her fears—in other words, she could shove all of her nerves into a closet and keep them inside until it was okay for her to give out and let everything crash over her. The interior of Rosa Nera was truly huge. There was a second floor with a balcony overview of everyone on the main floor and the stage. In the center hanging from the intricate flower carved ceiling was a grand chandelier that glittered like a thousand stars. Round tables covered in white tablecloths were spotted everywhere across the red-carpeted room, and the people…

They were all so glamorous.

It was such a different feel to Mirajane to be standing up on this black stage with classy-dressed men and women behind her, wearing satin dresses and black suits, playing a ballad so smooth and beautiful. The people that were scattered everywhere before her, sitting at tables with fragile glasses full of either clear or burgundy liquid, heading towards the lit-up bar or walking down the glossy staircase, laughing elegantly behind a gloved hand or wiping their face gently with a neatly folded napkin, wearing dresses that were modest and sophisticated or suits that fit well and exhibited power, sitting next to their loved ones or enjoying another's company—they all seemed to be living such paradisiacal lives. Everyone was so _clean. _There wasn't any smoke in the air, just the alluring fragrance of expensive perfume and musk. There weren't any dark secrets being passed along, just idle chatter. They were all really enjoying themselves.

And _nobody_ was looking at her.

They were all residing up on cloud nine, probably too busy having the time of their lives. They all lived such sparkly lives after all…and here she was: A dull girl trying to be noticed down in the dirt. Would anyone bother to look down at her?

_Yes. _That's why Mirajane was standing where she stood. She was there to make them all fall from that cloud. She was there to announce her existence. _She was there to—_

The smooth ballad playing in the background suddenly took a different change in note—one that even the orchestra and band behind her seemed to be shocked by. She could hear their confused movements and hushed murmurs, as if wondering if they were playing the notes right. _Oh, they were playing it right all right_. The melody probably just wasn't the typical classic, suave tune the upper-class was familiar with. After all, it was a tune from a completely different world—the world she had been residing in and secretly still did. _If only they could see the invisible chain locked around her neck. _A small, dark smile curled up on her maroon-colored lips to conceal the grimness of it all, and she took hold of the microphone placed in front of her as she parted her lips, her words flowing out like dark honey:

_You, you say it's just a bet  
_With money in your hand,  
_And power to demand  
__Red, red just like crimson blood  
__We don't have to fight,  
__If I play it right_

_Oh, if you only knew, the darkness that waits  
__Count to ten, and maybe it was all just a dream  
__Hey! Do you really know?  
__How the world's so obscure  
__Oh, please understand,  
__It's not what it seems  
__Just ignore the smoke,  
__I'm doing it all for love_

During the process of writing her song, Mirajane had only four people in mind: The Black Dragon, Laxus, Elfman, and Lisanna. She wasn't essentially writing a love song. She was writing a plea. This song was her heart's cry, and if there was anything she had caught on about Laxus, it was that he took his work seriously. And what kind of work did he do? To help people when they cried for it.

_Life, life's just a one-time deal,  
__So take it easy and slow,  
__But I've hit an all-time low  
__He, he says it's just like cake  
__I can have it too,  
__And __enjoy__ it too_

She'd never be able to make him fall for her. That was a simple fact Mirajane had realized after learning more about him from the Trimens. What the Black Dragon was asking her to do was ridiculously impossible, despite everything that was being done for her. Laxus wasn't like other men. But that didn't mean she wouldn't give it her all. She would try, despite knowing she wouldn't ever be able to capture his heart…but she knew she could capture his attention. And that would be enough to keep him around long enough for her to eventually pull the trigger. _Hopefully_.

_Oh, if you could see, Love, just close your eyes  
__Count from three, and I'll have your lips to mine  
__Hey! Do you really know?  
__There's an underworld  
__Oh, please understand  
__There's only so much time  
__Just ignore your fears,  
__For I'm doing it all for love…_

Mirajane moved her face away from the microphone, feeling as her own heavy words sunk inside of her. Her dark sapphire eyes then peered back up and wandered across the room in a haze as the dark melody played on like a rushing black river flowing into the bridge of her song. She hadn't caught sight of him at all as she sang her song. She knew she wasn't supposed to purposefully make any sort of contact with Laxus, but she really just wanted to know. To see what he actually looked like in human…so she could properly get a feel of who she was trying to lure in. Her hands subtly gripped tighter onto the black microphone before her as she heard the music hauling her back in—

_Pain, oh it isn't worth the shot_

Her eyes carefully flowed over each figure donning a suit.

_Death,_

That's when she saw him.

_it's not a right to reclaim,_

Her heart pounded and the nerves in her stomach churned.

_But please,_

His eyes had locked with hers.

_give me your all_

He halted mid-way on the staircase…

_Money, nor a thousand stars, will ever compare,_

…or maybe time just seemed to slow down. _Immensely._

_To the worth of your heart_

She tore her eyes away, and closed them to hide the shadows that she knew always dulled her eyes when she thought of the only two people left in her family, whom she had left to hurt all by themselves…

_But she's dying,  
__He's crying,  
__I'm drowning  
__I'm sorry  
__But he's calling me back…_

_You, you'll wish you'd never met__…  
__A girl can work it right,  
__If she has her sights  
__Love, love is just a game  
__You can take me whole,  
__If__ I get__ your __soul_

_Oh, if you only knew…  
__I'm doing it all for you…_

The music abruptly ended the same time she cut off her note, leaving the ghost of its sound resonating throughout the room. Mirajane took in deep breaths to help her swelling throat and chest. It was over. Her song was over. Her hands gripped tighter onto the microphone as she controlled her emotions. It hurt. It really did hurt.

That's when the slow rolling sound of applauding began.

Immediately, Mirajane's gaze went straight to the staircase, completely oblivious to the claps of appreciation meant for her. Laxus was gone. She exhaled deeply.

Mirajane then let go of the black microphone and stared at her audience. Everyone was looking at her now. And they were clapping. She instantly acknowledged that there were a lot of different facial expressions looking her way—not all were congenial. The world wasn't always so accepting after all. Sighing, she graced the audience with a close-lipped smile before parting ways from the stage. She made sure to thank the band and orchestra for playing her song before leaving, and in a fog, found herself back at the entrance she had come from. There, that same stout man from earlier stood, awaiting her presence.

After thirty-five minutes had passed, Mirajane finally found her will and took up the offer of the stout man who had escorted her back to the waiting room. He had mentioned that drinks were always on the house for performers and that the bar was a pretty nice place to relax. He had also given her a peculiar look and seemed like he was about to ask her something, but then kept it to himself and walked away, leaving her all alone.

With one last glimpse in the mirror of the red velvet-filled room, Mirajane tucked in some loose strands of starlight-white hair behind her ear, momentarily caught in a trance with her own reflection before she quickly departed from the room. The stout man from earlier had also told her that there was a hallway that looped behind the stage and led straight to the drink bar, all for the convenience of not having to make another huge entrance to the main ballroom dining hall, so she followed down that hallway with her gaze on the ground. Her sapphire blue eyes watched each step she took the entire time to the drink bar, staring as the high slit in her long, elegant, navy blue dress parted, revealing porcelain skin, and fluttered close, only to whoosh open once again and follow that same pattern over and over again.

Mirajane's dress was silky and smooth, and revealed quite a bit of skin—at least, compared to every other female's dress she had spotted in Rosa Nera. But she didn't mind. She preferred this style of dress. To her, it was elegant and free. With slim straps and a form-fitting bodice, as well as a high slit, she wouldn't mind wearing this every day. It wasn't too low in the front, like the costumes she was used to wearing at the Roxanne _La _Sanguine, and she felt comfortable. She felt confident.

The shoes Mirajane wore, she also liked, too. They were fairly high heels, but they weren't uncomfortable, and just like her dress, they matched in color and had slim straps that wrapped around her ankles and the front near her toes. Along with her delicate yet bold makeup and nicely done nails painted with French tips, and simple but classy jewelry of a slim diamond banded ring, a couple of simply silver bands on her left wrist, and diamond stud earrings and Marcel wave-curled hairstyle with her bangs swept up into the curl to make it look like she didn't even have any, she really did feel beautiful. She had to give credit to the Trimens, for despite their strange personalities, they really did know their beauty.

Just thinking about the four men made Mirajane smile. She hoped she would be able to meet them at least one more time during this short life she would live in their world.

When Mirajane looked up, noticing the silence of the hallway had begun to fill with sound, she found herself exiting the long hallway and out into the main area again. Classic music was playing, and the sounds of light talk and laughter filled her head. Her eyes momentarily roamed the room before she pursed her lips and slowly walked over to the rainbow-lit up drink bar. She could sit on one of the black cushioned stools, but she didn't want to. In fact, she didn't really want to be there. She wanted to leave. But she knew she couldn't—not without giving some space and time for the one and only desired man to come approach her. _If he would. _

Mirajane rested her forearms on the cool black, silver-specked marble countertop before her and a bartender came to take her order.

"Water," Mirajane curtly said, flashing the smallest of smiles.

The bartender gave her a questioning look for a second, but turned away to get her request. It was then when her first enthusiast from the upper-class world approached her. He was tall and handsome, adorned with a charming smile, and an air of arrogance she would probably be able to spot from a thousand miles away.

_Wonderful._

"You're the mysterious beauty who just sang on stage moments ago, right?" he asked in a smooth voice, ordering a glass of his own.

"'Mysterious beauty?'" Mirajane echoed. A slight twitch in her smile. "Oh please, you haven't properly viewed this room yet, now have you?"

Their drinks came at the same time. Plus one extra one.

"What's this?" Mirajane asked as she grabbed at her glass of slightly bubbling water.

"My appeasement to you," he responded.

She eyed the two bright orange drinks in front of them, taking a blind sip from her own glass, and then looked at her unwanted guest. This man dressed in a black suit beside her had dark brown hair slicked all the way back and very pale skin. He had dark, very defined eyebrows, and was fairly tall and slim. He was clean and visibly very well-kempt. Probably a tease with the ladies.

And wasting her time.

"I won't drink it," Mirajane stated, taking a bigger sip from her own glass again. Her throat was slightly dry from singing.

"Oh? And can I get a name with that?" the invader beside her easily responded.

_Shut up. _"Yeah, do you need me to spell it out for you?" Mirajane asked, smiling her sweetest smile. Oh, she was becoming _so_ irritated.

"Feisty. I like it. Okay. Let's hear it," he challenged.

Mirajane clenched her teeth while the words of the Black Dragon came flooding back into her mind of how she must conduct herself when in the presence of the other upper-class men. "You must be nice and charming," the Black Dragon had warned her that night. "You can't give off any bad impressions, or else... It'll be dangerous if you do." Ugh. What about the Trimens? What had they told her to do? She couldn't think.

She was just going to have to bite her tongue on this one, wasn't she?

"Shy?" came a low voice too close to her comfort, and just when Mirajane was about to face this imposter—because she already knew he was just like all of those in the underworld—he was a _monster—_ a cold hand brushed her starlight-white hair out of the way, sweeping away the small barrier she had allowed to form to separate his vision from her face. She froze stiff, her heart beginning to slowly race in her chest. This _monster's hand _was now casually placed on her right shoulder-blade.

_No…_

Her insides began to drown in disgust as his touch shifted.

_Stop…_

She could feel his fingertips causing the shift in her dress' shoulder strap, making it slip a little.

_Don't…_

She was petrified. What could she do? Was she supposed to grin and bear it? She couldn't mess this up. Was slapping his hand away too much? She obviously couldn't create a scene by shoving him to the ground or punching him in the face and kicking him in the gut or else she would lose it all just like that!—but she didn't want him _touching _her. His touch wasn't even _close_ to her little brother's. It wasn't even similar to the Trimens'. It had bad intent seeping out of his skin, and that put her on edge. It felt too similar to that one time—her first time unwanted hands had grabbed her. How did this appear to other people? Did it look as lewd and foul as it felt?

What if Laxus was watching? What would he think? What if this stupid tiny little interaction ruined her chances? All of her efforts would go straight down the drain—

Suddenly the pressure from this monster's hand became stronger, and her mind when numb with panic.

_Please…_

"Rupus Matchinski," abruptly sounded a new male voice further to the right, past Mirajane's assaulter. "Can't you tell you're making her feel uncomfortable?" He sounded bored, but his voice was laced with annoyance.

Mirajane leaned forward curiously to peer at her rescuer with her heart full of hope and anxiety. When she spotted a royal blue-haired man with slightly shaggy hair and an unimpressed look plastered on his face, eyeing them while resting his chin lazily on the palm of his right hand, sitting a few seats away, her heart dropped a little. _Of course it wouldn't be him. _She was such a fool. To think that she already had this much hope in Laxus… But disregarding the cynicism she felt inside, that didn't mean she was ungrateful for this new stranger's interception.

"You know, you're beginning to make _me_ feel uncomfortable over here, too," this mysterious blue-haired man said with a dull sigh. "Go back to sitting with your parents, Matchinski…before I tell your dad to come get you."

The slick brown-haired man, Rupus Matchinski, snickered. He took a step towards Mirajane's newfound hero, and his hand slipped off of her shoulder. _Finally. _Rupus stopped in front of the royal blue-haired man, seething: "Fernandes. Still as _prudent _as ever, I see. Well. You may have done a huge deal to my poor little sister, Renalda's, heart, but in the end, I'm _glad _she didn't end up with someone like _you._ Someone who's _still _chasing after an imaginary _girl._ If anything, this _Scarlet-_girl you told my dear, _sweet_ little sister about is all a lie. If not that, probably a long _dead _girl."

The royal blue-haired man's face remained like a tranquil lake, so unmoving and untouched by his surroundings. But the tightening of his left hand that rested on the black, star-speckled countertop near his drink didn't go unnoticed by Mirajane's eyes. "You're making a bad first impression, Matchinski," he then said coolly, causing Rupus to huff, readjust his suit coat, and walk away with his nose held high, not even bothering to look back at Mirajane.

_Monster. _Manners were like one, too.

Mirajane sighed and closed her eyes, finally taking her seat on the black stool tucked beneath the counter. She really needed to sit down now. She already felt so much better and cleaner, but it didn't take away the contaminated feeling she felt prickling on her right shoulder-blade.

"Don't mind him," the royal blue-haired man said, recomposing his posture. "I'm sorry I didn't intervene sooner," he apologized with a weak smile.

Mirajane blinked at him. Then she mirrored his smile, saying: "No, you helped me, and I'm grateful for just that. Thank you." She clutched onto her slim arms, sliding her cold hands up her bare skin and having her left hand readjust the thin strap that was now sliding off her shoulder a little more back into place. It felt so much better to have that back in proper place on her shoulder. Even though it was such a tiny little strap, having it slip off her shoulder or move in any way that would make it seem like it would slip off, it made her feel incredibly vulnerable.

"No…I shouldn't have let him go as far as to touching you," the royal blue-haired man said softly before taking a sip of his drink.

Mirajane could only stare at him.

"Oh, by the way, I wanted to tell you: Your song was beautiful. I really liked it. It was different…and I felt like I could resonate with the sound and lyrics more than any other song I've heard," he went on to say after setting his drink down. He then looked over at the mystified starlight white-haired girl with dark night blue eyes and smiled gently. "I'm Jellal Fernandes by the way," he said, and that's when Mirajane saw the dark maroon mark over his right eye.

"Mirajane," Mirajane replied, smiling. There was something so reassuring about Jellal…and there was something about him that was familiar. She'd never met him before, had she? No…but she did know him from somewhere. Had she seen him in the news before? Did the Trimens introduce about him to her? She may have been dazing out thinking about other things when or if they did now that she thought about it.

"Pretty," Jellal complimented casually. "So, Mirajane," he began, "I haven't ever seen you in these parts of Magnolia before. Are you traveling to sing?"

"No…" Mirajane said, thinking back to the words the Black Dragon had told her to say when people asked her who she was and what she was doing with her life. He didn't really give her anything specific to say, other than to keep their deal a secret and, rather jokingly: "Just tell them you're there because your parents want you to find a nice husband." She pursed her lips. "I'm…well, you see, my uncle…he lives in these parts of Magnolia…" Jellal nodded his head in understanding "…and…he really wants me to find a nice husband to marry…but because I've been so sheltered my whole life, he wanted me to try and meet new people by making myself debut in places like this," she said with a shrug. _Lame. _

Mirajane couldn't believe her skills with casual conversation lately. Maybe it was because she still wasn't sure how to comprehend all of it yet. She absentmindedly twirled her soft locks around her left fingers.

"Ahh, I see," Jellal said, finishing off his drink. His eyes rested on his empty glass, seeming a little distant.

Mirajane had been staring at Jellal for a while now. His style of dress seemed a little more regal compared to most young men she had spotted while on stage; his long navy blue coat was embellished with gold chains on the shoulders and pockets, with one linking the front hems of his coat together near the collar; there were also official pins above the left breast pocket. He definitely had a cool air about him, and he was handsome—he probably had a lot of admirers, such as Rupus Matchinski's little sister, if she had presumed correctly. He seemed like he would be someone well-respected and quite prosperous in the upper-class world, too—he definitely had to have made the newspapers at some point. But she couldn't pinpoint his image anywhere within her memories. For whatever reason, she couldn't break the urge and need to know more about him and his affiliations.

"Hey, Jellal, earlier that man had mentioned, 'Scarlet-girl,'" Mirajane began to say. She caught the subtle flex of muscle in his jaw the second she had said "Scarlet-girl." Past lover? Suddenly the image of a certain scarlet-haired friend came to mind. She pursed her lips and gripped at her elbows, leaning forward on the black countertop a little so she could see more of Jellal's face. The deep maroon mark around his right eye was hardly visible, but she could see a little of it. "If…if you wouldn't mind, could you tell me a little about her? Maybe I can help," she said.

If Mirajane remembered everything Erza had told her correctly about this blue-haired childhood friend of hers, then this person who now sat a few mere inches away from her…

Jellal remained silent for a while, but Mirajane had patience. And it paid off once he started to speak.

"You know, normally I don't like to talk about her with other people, but…something about you reminds me of her. There's a fire within you. One that feels similar to hers," Jellal said with a small smile breaking his serene features; his eyes were still distant.

Mirajane pursed her lips and frowned a little. There was a certain sadness about him, molded in a lonesome mold, filled with longing and a broken hope that just wouldn't seem to keep together. It was similar to Erza, but slightly different…yet the strong feelings of desire were on the same level. He wanted to meet Erza just as much as she wanted to meet him…because they were in love. Yet somehow, they had become separated and lost contact.

Mirajane had it down to an art at this point. She could immediately tell the difference between corrupted lust and pure love, no matter the form. She'd been in a place full of girls with lustful desires and the every now-and-then mishap of falling in love with a monster only to have their pathetic heart be broken for such a long time that the moment Erza had mentioned this "blue-haired boy," Mirajane knew. That was the first time her heart cried for someone else other than those that shared her own blood. And now looking at this royal blue-haired boy whom she just so happened to have the fate of meeting…

"Just like the color of her hair, she had a bright red fire burning within her. She was always so strong, physically and mentally, and she stood up for those around her," Jellal went on. "We were only kids, but…" He snickered. "I wonder what she would think if she saw me now," he said darkly, grabbing at his empty glass and peering at its empty contents. "I'm so weak…she probably doesn't even need my help now…but I still want to protect her. Yet just as Matchinski said, she could be a long dead girl by now."

"You don't know that…" Mirajane involuntarily mumbled.

Jellal went quiet, but as he set his glass down again, another gentle smile broke across his solemn features and he said: "You're right. I don't know that for sure. But you know, we grew up in an orphanage, and I was fortunate enough to be adopted by a kind, loving couple who was barren, yet not even a few years later, the orphanage we had grown up in had caught on fire…and they couldn't save it. A lot of deaths were confirmed that day, and I guess you could say I was one of them. But I found a little bit of hope after running into a past friend whom resided there just before the incident had happened. However, in the end, I never could find a true confirmation about what happened to her."

Now that Mirajane thought about it, the Trimens had gone over a case about the Orphanage of Eden. That was the same place Erza had mentioned once. How the fire started was ambiguous, just like every other case that seemed to make a starring spot in Fiore history.

"You don't have to look that sad for me," Jellal suddenly said with a light empty laugh.

Mirajane wasn't even sure how to respond to that. _It was sad_. Jellal was looking for someone whom he wasn't even sure was alive or not, and he was on the brink of giving up. The only thing holding him together was a thin string of hope and probably the desires to see Erza's smiling face again. Would he be able to find her before that string broke, though? Indefinite. Would he go to the underworld to look for her? _Yes. _But would he find her in time? That was the part Mirajane was concerned about. She _had _to do something…but how? How could she help not just him, but Erza as well, without giving away her true identity and background? She still needed so much more time in this upper-class world before she could let it shatter, yet Erza…she shouldn't have to spend more time in the underworld than she already has had to...

"Mirajane," Jellal called out to said-girl, suddenly standing up and locking eyes with her. "Thank you," he said. And he meant it. "You're the first to listen sincerely to me and actually believe she exists," he said. "It gives me a little more hope."

Mirajane shook her head, unsure of how to cope with her inner turmoil. If only he knew…

Jellal gave Mirajane one last smile. "Well, I must be going now, but if you ever need any help, just let me know. The men in this world aren't always what they seem on the outside…" he said quietly, eyeing the three glasses in front of Mirajane. "Are you staying for the grand dance?—oh, actually…here's my number and address," he said, pulling out a rectangular case from his pocket and slipping out a small business card to give to Mirajane. "I really mean what I said. If you need anything, it's safe to come to me," he said gently, and when Mirajane locked eyes with his, catching the slightest softening of his expression, she found his sincerity and trusted his words. His night blue eyes soon wandered their way back to the drinks, however.

"Well, it really was a pleasure meeting you, Mirajane. I hope we can talk soon," he said, turning to walk away, but abruptly stopped in place. He craned his head to look back at the three drinks with a solemn face. "Also, don't drink from any of those glasses," he added, his dark eyes meeting with hers once more before he saluted a small goodbye and resumed his departure.

All the while, Mirajane had distractedly glanced to the three drinks before her then back to the given small piece of paper in her hand. "Jellal, wait—!" she had started to say, finally looking up, only to see the royal blue-haired man already too far away. "She…Erza's still alive…" she quietly ended in a whisper.

For the next few minutes, Mirajane sat alone at the bar, staring down at the small business card given from Fate himself in her manicured hands. She looked up at her glass of water and reached out for it, only to freeze still. Didn't Jellal just warn her about the drinks minutes ago? Her stomach suddenly dropped and she stared at her glass of water. _Hard_. Now that she thought about it, it had been fizzing a little when it first arrived…and its color now wasn't as clear as normal water typically was. And she had drunk at least a third of its contents.

Mirajane abruptly stood up, heart pounding, taking her leave just as another young man had walked up beside her and ordered a drink. She ignored his eyes and all other forms of interactions designated towards her to come. She was walking briskly with her eyes solely on way to the exit and only one goal in mind: _to get out of this place as fast as possible and get home even faster._

"Ah—!"

Mirajane had brutally collided shoulders with someone of fairly decent stature, and that sent the balance in her head spiraling like a slow push-off on a merry-go-round. "Oh, no…" she whispered with her right hand that still gripped onto Jellal's business card pressing up against her forehead. So, her glass of water really had been drugged…

"Oh, my—I'm _so_ sorry!" the man she had collided with was saying. He was slightly older with round golden-framed glasses resting on an aquiline nose, clad in a three piece tweed suit, had salt and pepper hair neatly slicked back, and a clean, well-kempt Van Dyke beard to frame his face.

"No, no, it was my fault—are you okay?" Mirajane began to say, trying her best to regain poise and normalcy.

"Oh, I'm fine, my dear, but what about you?" the older gentleman went on to say.

"Thank you, no, I'm fine—I'm sorry, I really must be leaving now," Mirajane said briskly, yet as politely as possible. _Her head... _She wasn't feeling too good anymore.

When Mirajane made it outside in front of the large grand Italian restaurant, a few glossy cars passed by on the red brick streets in front of her; other than that, however, it left her standing all alone on the dimly lit roads. The sky was dark with dark lolling clouds, and there was a slight chill to the air. It smelled faintly of cigarette smoke, but there was no one standing outside. _How was she supposed to get home? _Where were the men in striped suits? Now that she thought about it, her ride back home was never discussed.

Mirajane looked to her right and left. It seemed like everyone was either at home already or all inside Rosa Nera; it did seem like a full house, now that she thought about it, and it was incredibly enormous inside. When she looked up at Rosa Nera behind her, its massiveness seemed to engulf her vision, causing her to stumble a little to the side. She suddenly was beginning to feel a stronger sense of nauseous swell within her tongue. She could go back inside Rosa Nera…but she chose not to. If she passed out, it would create a scene, and she just wanted to get away from the place at this point. So, with that determination in mind, she continued walking down along the street, suddenly feeling an urgency to get away…but from what?

As Mirajane went further on, perceiving her breathing becoming a little shorter and the feeling in her legs becoming weird, she then noticed two figures coming towards her. Her gut dropped at the sight, so she turned around, only to find three more figures coming towards her. She had a terrible feeling about them.

"No…" Mirajane groaned, turning back to look at the other two figures. That's when she saw an opening—an alleyway between Rosa Nera and its neighboring building a few steps from where she stood. She clenched her teeth and headed towards the dark passageway. _Be strong, be strong, be strong _were the words in the chant she had reverberating inside her spinning head. She could still walk fairly well according to her standards, and she had good control over her limbs still. It was still okay, it would be all right.

When Mirajane got mid-way down the dark pathway, finding it was a dead-end, as expected, she put the slightly bent business card she had received earlier and tucked it down her bodice. It was slightly ironic to think she had been given a number she could call for help, yet she had no way of calling that person when she needed it. A grim smile twisted her lips. She supposed that was just the game of life. In the process of her adjusting the front of her dress, she kicked a few half-burned out cigarettes lying on the ground nearby away with the tip of her right heel.

If anything, however, Mirajane couldn't lose this business card. She pursed her lips, and then craned her head to look behind her, finding the five slightly large figures all beginning to enter the alleyway, so she turned around. She took in deep breaths and stared them on with tightly clenched hands. It was okay because she wasn't knocked out yet. The drug hadn't quite taken over, and she wasn't like her fifteen-year-old self anymore. She could win this fight without a weapon. _And drugged._

Mirajane closed her eyes to help soothe the spinning in her head. Once she heard the scrape of shoes on the brick ground bounce back to her ears louder than her own comfort could bear, her eyes snapped open. The first challenger was a couple steps away and reaching out for her. He rested a hand on her shoulder—she punched him straight on in the face. A grunt of pain escaped his lips, and she proceeded to knee him in the stomach. He fell to the ground.

The next two challengers to approach her seemed smarter than the last and opted to work together, but a hard swing of her leg and stab of her elbow, she had kicked away one and made the other release her neck from his arm that had been suffocating her. Her head was starting to spin with more pressure from the toxins in her system and lack of oxygen, and she could sense the strength leaving her limbs—_but_ _no—_she wasn't going to let them give out on her—not yet! _Please, not yet! _

She swung her arm, and her target ducked, throwing a jab her way, but she barely side-stepped out of reach, swiftly returning another hit. Her tongue was beginning to burn with an even more intense feeling of nausea, so she clenched her teeth even harder, shoving, huffing, punching, puffing, ducking, gasping, blocking, grunting, kicking, heaving, tripping, panting—giving it her all, doing everything she was capable of, doing everything she had brawled off with Elfman and Erza in the past to prepare for these seemingly inevitable moments. Now that she thought about it, it was through the start of these trainings that her younger brother felt inspired to bulk up quite a bit. She wondered how Elfman was doing now…

She missed being held in his warm arms.

A strong wave of emotions welled up within Mirajane's chest, reaching her fogging eyes. There were so many things going on—internally and externally. The stress was getting to her mind and body, and her limbs were beginning to really feel unstable, but the adrenaline in her veins were enough to help her ignore all the dizziness, pain, and stinging and force energy into her hits—then there was a flash of bright green—_what?_ She furrowed her eyebrows momentarily, but with an overly energy-exerting hard swing of her leg after being shoved and pinned up by her wrists against the brick wall and a high-pitched yelp from whomever she had just knocked to the ground and an even stronger pull on the imbalance within her head, she forgot about it, stumbling forward into the brick wall to the left side of the alleyway across from her. Upon looking up, that's when she spotted yet _another _masculine figure coming her way, and this one…_he was colossal. _

"You're kidding," Mirajane puffed out weakly, vaguely aware of how wet her cheeks had become from the overflow of tears while this large shadow neared her, stepping over two bodies on the ground. He really was huge. Or was it the drug? Either way, she was reaching her limits.

Her heart was pounding in her ears, she truly was out of breath, and her entire body was burning furiously, yet Mirajane shoved herself off of the wall and balanced herself on her shaking limbs. She could feel her legs were about to give out soon, and the fact that she was still wearing heels only magnified the frail feeling. As the seemingly herculean figure neared her, she was given a little bit of fire when she realized this hulk was actually similar sized to her younger brother, meaning she had a chance at taking him out…if only she wasn't so worn out and drugged.

Mirajane attempted to hide fatigue as she stepped forward boldly and threw hits at this approaching goliath, whom she quickly realized may not even be from the same group the first few men she had fought with were from. Something about him was different, and he didn't smell like cigarette smoke. He smelled intoxicatingly like musk—someone from the upper-class world—but he wasn't wearing a suit coat nor tie and had his white dress shirt unbuttoned a little at the collar and all on the sleeves so they could be folded up to his elbows. He was dressed with the expectation to fight.

Yet…he didn't give off an ominous vibe.

And this whole time, he had only been blocking her hits.

Now, why was that?

As Mirajane continued with her weakening attacks and cloudy vision, drowsiness suddenly began to weigh down and mix in with the spiraling of her head and heaviness of her body, and frustration ultimately breached the top of her confusion. _Why couldn't she even get in one proper punch on this guy?! _Suddenly, in one swift movement, the palm of her hand slapped hard across his cheek, echoing loudly down the dark alleyway. She could've sworn she heard a far too dramatic gasp behind her, soon followed by the unmistakable "Laxus!" crying out from behind her, but before she could look up and take it all in, her body had finally given out and the fog took over her mind.

The last thing Mirajane felt and would remember was the catch and embrace similar to her younger brother's around her shattered body, and a warm hand just like her younger brother's shifting her head and gently wiping away the tears that painted her delicate face just before she would ultimately once again spiral down another dark rabbit hole.

* * *

**It's been a long time coming. ;) And this chapter took me a thousand years to write, and is very long. I'm not gonna lie, I'm quite proud of the song I wrote, though (but the more I read it, the more I cringe, so I don't know, aha). Main sounds and inspirations come from Lana Del Rey, music from The Great Gatsby (2013), and this other song. :)  
****  
****Anyways. Thanks so much for reading! :D  
**


	9. Of Interruptions and Heartbeats

**7**

* * *

There were distant voices. One was distinctly female while the rest seemed to be male. They were muffled and hard to make out, but they sounded like they were arguing over something. She could hardly tell if it was reality or not; maybe it was all in her head and she was still dreaming. Yet, as her fingers twitched and the softness that enveloped the frame of her limp body became something she recognized, she began to believe it wasn't the latter. She was becoming vaguely aware of what kind of place she was in, all the while, the sounds of blurred conflict continued to push their way through filling her hollowed surroundings.

Her resting face broke and contorted itself as she tried to move her limbs. They felt heavy. So incredibly heavy that a childish fear had ignited inside of her, and as she struggled to work her missing strength, panic barely seeping past her lips, she soon found herself on the hard ground. _Shock. _Then confusion swirled her thoughts into a bewildering hurricane, leaving her helpless and all alone in the eye of the rushing confusion that continued to swirl around her. The sting from the fall didn't strike her senses until after she had made another attempt at moving her limbs, this time, trying to pick up her upper half with her noodle-like arms. But that was no good, for she suddenly found her face touching the hard wooden ground once again. More shock. She then became ambiguously aware of the voices and proximity of new presences that had surrounded her at some point during some unknown time.

A hand came to touch her right shoulder as she struggled to lift herself up on the palms of her hands, but she recoiled instinctively the moment she felt unfamiliar contact and slipped to collapsing on her left elbow, using that as a support to keep her face away from the unforgiving floor. Sounds of alarm managed to break through her ears, quickly getting swept away in her ongoing confused state of mind. Another hand tried to grab at her arm along with some ostracized background sounds, but she pushed it away—all of it. _Don't touch me!_ were the only fuming words that broke through in clarity within the storm of confusion inside her unstable mind. Whether or not she had voiced it or not was beyond her.

The discontented sounds around her grew unbearably loud for a bit, driving noises that entered her mind in a painful blur. She tried to move, but couldn't even budge a tiny bit. Gosh, how her body felt so _heavy._ Her eyelids felt even more so heavy than her body, though, feeling as if they had been sealed together with some sort of adhesive, but she managed to crack them open because she felt like she was in a dire situation. Something was still continuing to weigh in on her entire body, beginning to feel much like the absurd weight of her younger brother, however, making her almost instinctively tell the large goof to get off... That's when the atmosphere abruptly changed.

White strands of starlight-white hair had slipped past her shoulders, shielding her twisted pretty facial features from whomever it was that was standing over her in what had felt like a demeaning manner. Her natural curiosity made her eyes flicker over to the new presence, but she couldn't see them. Her hair was blocking her vision, and she had no energy to shift her neck. There was a certain familiar smell lingering in the air, though, which she recognized, yet couldn't connect any dots to during that specific moment. The person towering over her had at some point come down to match her level on the ground, and they exchanged a few words, or at least, she was sure there was some form of conversation that took place… She couldn't remember the details anymore. Everything that had taken place just before she lost herself yet into another heavy sleep got swept away in her black howling thoughts.

What she did remember before she blacked out, however, was that there was definitely a bit of a struggle on her part. There was something she had been so defiant about, and there was something that had happened—maybe something that had been said?—that she vaguely remembered setting her off in such a negative way…but ultimately in the end, everything melted away in a certain comfort. What exactly _did _happen last night? Was it even last night? Ugh. She could hardly remember anything! It was all lost in a blur of a distant memory. But was it really that distant? _Yes_…it already wasso far away.

And now, here she was, lying wide awake in a dark room wondering about all the who's, what's, when's, where's, why's, and how she managed to end up in a place like this.

Mirajane stared blankly up at the white ceiling. It was still fairly dark in the room, but according to the gloomy blue light that poured in through the windows and the distant cheeping sounds of what she could only assume to be birds, her best guess was that it was peaking early morning. There were a few facts she had managed to gather during her time motionlessly laying there in the quiet room. The first one was that she had been drugged; the second one was that someone had taken her somewhere; and the third was that she had been passed out for quite some time because she was _starving. _Her stomach was flat and empty, and considering the memory of that one time she somehow woke up during the spell of her drug-induced sleep, there was no way she could've just woken up a few hours later ever since that moment. It didn't make sense in her head.

Mirajane pursed her lips as the memories at Rosa Nera seeped over all of her current thoughts. There was the fated conversation with Jellal Fernandes…and then her struggle to get out of the large Italian restaurant…and then the dark alleyway…and then _the fight_. She had exerted all of her energy and focus into combat that she never bothered once to look up at any of her opponents' faces. Which she was now beginning to regret because her last opponent…_the goliath… _There was a name that had been called out, just before she passed out. She had been mentally blocking it out of her head due to the several complications it entailed, but…she couldn't deny it anymore. She had caught a small, tiny portion of his jawline before her world fell into darkness, and even though it seemed ridiculous for her to already know it was him, she just _knew. _

That person whom Mirajane was so desperate to capture their attention… He was the last person she fought against. And she slapped him right across the face. She slapped Laxus Dreyar. That fact alone entailed_ a lot _more complications than everything else combined. Oh gosh…she slapped _the_ Laxus Dreyar. She slapped the person she was supposed to make fall in love with her. She slapped the person she was supposed to charm. She slapp—_what in the world had she done?! _Mirajane shot straight up in bed with the speed of a bullet, cutting straight through all the pains and aches and rejections her sore body had been waiting to attack her with for physically overdoing it, and gripping onto the soft fur of the—her dark sapphire eyes narrowed and flicked down to the heavy fur coat draped over her body—"Ah!" she impulsively shrieked, springing in her legs while throwing it off as if a spider had been on it. Her inner feelings of horror had ultimately peaked.

_No. No, no, no, no, no! _Mirajane could hardly believe it. Yeah, sure, she had _confessed _to herself that the person whom she had unmistakably slapped was the one and only, billionaire, Laxus Dreyar, _but_!—that didn't mean she had _mentally _prepared herself for the reality of it all! This whole time she had been too scared to move her body ever since she had woken up and realized what kind of situations she could be in, especially considering the familiar musk she could smell but—_gah! _Why hadn't she noticed it sooner?! _His coat—!_

Mirajane was breathing a little too heavily now, so she took a moment to pause and breathe. After a few short seconds, she hesitantly peered back over at the heavy, large coat that seemed to mock her very existence as it dangerously rested a mere few inches away from her. That familiar musk she had somehow become accustomed to within such a short time period was stuck in her nose. Her lips twitched downwards in the slightest of movements. The only reason she quickly recognized the coat as Laxus' was because it was something that had been brought up during her time with the Trimens. Laxus always seemed to be wearing this coat in a good majority of the pictures that were shown to her during her training, and when she mentioned it, Ichiya had simply said it was what made Laxus "all the more glorious!" while the other three men sang their own silly comments of praise. She hadn't realized it had made that big of an impression until now.

If it was her, Mirajane would probably have just said Laxus' coat was his trademark apparel; and normally stuff like that was considered special. Therefore, for it to be draped over her, a complete stranger to him… What exactly did that mean about Laxus? Even though she had slapped him… Maybe he wasn't as impossible or as bad as she was somehow imagining him to be. She always thought poorly of men on first sight out of daily habit.

A grim look shadowed over Mirajane's delicate features. And maybe she was just overthinking everything because she was trying to make him seem like the good guy. Just because Laxus may have potentially saved her didn't mean he was full of good intentions. After all, most men were monsters in the end. Especially those in the upper-class world. "He can't be all that nice," she muttered bitterly, reaching out a small hand to touch the soft, warm fur of his coat.

"Who can't be all that nice?" a deep voice lowly thundered, causing Mirajane to jump and whip her head over her right shoulder with wide eyes. As her soft white hair feathered lightly across the bare skin of her back in what felt like slow motion, her heart dropped and anxiety shattered the peace she had maintained from thinking she actually had time to prepare to meet him because surely enough, there, the one and only infamous billionaire was.

Laxus Dreyar stood in the dimly lit doorway near the right corner of the room, casually leaning against the doorframe with his massive arms crossed. He was wearing white pants with black sturdy boots, donning a navy blue button-up shirt which was styled in the same manner Mirajane had seen that night in the dark alleyway. _Is he going to go fight someone? _she innocently thought as her first reaction to the sight of the herculean man. He really was huge. If he wanted to, he could easily touch the top of the doorframe, which Mirajane could already tell was built slightly larger than most standard doorways. She pursed her lips, feigning nonchalance.

"I hope you're not talking about me, Sleeping Beauty," Laxus went on to say, causing something to tick inside of Mirajane, "because last I checked, I just saved you." Annoyance was already seeping out of his low voice.

Mirajane furrowed her eyebrows faintly, but she held her tongue. _This is the person you're supposed to charm,_ she reminded herself, suddenly feeling how tremendously heavy the burden of the deal with the Black Dragon actually was. Fear and dread took their places on her shoulders while something entirely new shadowed behind her, suddenly making it physically hard for her to breathe. Her chest felt heavy and compressed.

Laxus' dark eyes abruptly locked with Mirajane's, causing her stomach to churn, but she maintained a brave face. After a few solid seconds of silence, his eyes broke away and drifted down; they remained low for some time while hers stayed on his face, studying his features. She couldn't see all the details of his face incredibly too well due to the poor lighting, but she could see the unique lightning scar striking down the right side of his face. She could also see that he had quite a serious face for such a young age, and there was something else there. A sort of…force?—no, _determination. _And it channeled power. She clenched her teeth and took in his entire masculine form. Compared to her little brother, they were about the same in stature; but Elfman was continually growing each day still, and if anything, he might've been a little bigger than the one that now stood in her reality.

Mirajane took comfort in that tiny detail—o_nly slightly_. Through comparing Laxus to her little brother, it let her know that she had a possible chance at taking him down if she really needed to. Physically, that is. A girl could never know the true nature of a man unless she spent real time with him away from the watching eyes of others after all. Reputations were the new lie, and masks over true identities was a classic trend. Mirajane's calculative eyes rested on Laxus' muscular upper half, lingering there a little longer before they went back up to his face. She may not have had the brightest thoughts when it came to men, but even she knew a striking man when she saw one.

Despite all things and potential circumstances, Laxus was better than trying to lure in an old, disgusting, pot-bellied man—_that was for sure_…maybe.

"Your legs…" he was starting to mumble.

Mirajane's eyebrows knitted in further together. "My…legs…?" she slowly asked, confusion and contempt tainting her words. Her eyes then drifted down to meet where his sights must've been the entire time. In the cool lighting, her legs which she had let relax from the compressed position she had brought them into earlier, appeared an extraterrestrial pale. The high slit to her elegant dress was parted far apart, exposing a dangerous amount of her fair skin, but because the current situation of her dress was brought on through her own actions and not some unwanted hand's violation, she remained calm.

"You know," Laxus started to say, the tone of his low voice suddenly turning hard with the slightest aggression laced in his words, "with nice legs like that openly exposed, you're basically asking for it."

Mirajane clenched her teeth, feeling a pang in her heart and flicked her eyes up at Laxus, finding that the air had quickly changed around him. The slightest of wicked grins was shadowing over his face, and it caught her off-guard. "'Asking for it?'" was all she could echo back in response, barely managing to hide the majority of her afflictions boiling within her.

"Yeah," he darkly responded back, shifting from off of the doorframe.

Mirajane's insides dropped and she unconsciously moved along with his slight movements. Laxus wasn't going to hurt her_. _Despite the nervous beats of her heart, she for whatever reason had that confidence that he wouldn't actually touch her—it somehow didn't match his character to do that—yet, she still slid her legs off of the bed's edge uneasily, sensing his menacing presence nearing. She didn't understand why he was doing this—_she didn't understand anything that was currently happening_. All she knew was that her body was telling her to _run_. Her hands fisted when her narrowed eyes locked with his dark ones. She wasn't afraid of Laxus, either. But she was afraid of her doubts that were blaring off inside of her, warning her that _he was a man,_ and that _he was going to eat her_—why?—because_ he was a monster—_or something far worse…

With another slight movement from his masculine form and her heart skipping a beat, urging her forward, Mirajane had reflexively slid down onto her feet_, _but her legs weren't ready for her full weight and she hadn't caught sight of her pair of heels neatly placed on the ground beneath her dangling feet due to her eyes being latched onto the foreboding creature behind her—therefore, in less than two seconds flat, she had lost her balance and collapsed forward to the hard wooden floor, blowing out all her nervousness in one harsh huff, leaving her wide-eyed. The lights flicked on then, illuminating the entire room from the golden flower-designed chandelier, which hung in the center of the room, just above the foot of the queen-sized bed Mirajane had been sitting on. To say the least, she was dumbfounded by the fall and could only silently curse her toppled heels near her feet by glaring at them.

"That was graceful," sounded Laxus' low voice from somewhere behind the bed. All intimidation he had once reigned over vanished from the entire room and was gone from his entire existence.

Mirajane was speechless with only one horrified thought in mind. She couldn't even bother to worry about the pains and aches she felt in her sore body and heart. Oh no, because really—_What was that?! _

"And they all fall down…" Laxus slowly said, his voice now much closer, and when Mirajane turned her head, she found him resting his forearms against the foot of the bedframe with a slightly amused smirk across his face, watching her. She managed to lock eyes with his and challenged him in a stare-off. His eyebrows furrowed only slightly. "You know, rather than Sleeping Beauty, Falling Beauty has a nice ring to it, too," he mused, taking on her challenge with a certain force. Despite the playfulness that reflected off of his face, his eyes held a certain power—_a certain electricity_—and it struck Mirajane.

That's when Laxus moved from his position, awakening a moan from the old wooden bedframe, and after a few heavy footsteps, he crouched down right in front of Mirajane, resting his elbows comfortably on his knees, causing a small breeze to rush forward, carrying the scent of his musk over to her. "You know, it's not a very good habit of yours to fall that much. I can't always be there to catch you, Princess," he said, his smirk seeming to deepen from the slight twinge of irritation that briefly flashed across her face. "You should take more care in your conduct, or else you're just going to scratch that pretty face of yours," he said, reaching out a large hand, but paused, and seeming to think better of it, his hand fell limp. With one glance over in the direction of her shoes, breaking their stare off, he sighed heavily.

Laxus then stood up, and glimpsing over at the bed, he grabbed his black fur coat. "I originally was going to leave this here, but seeing that you're wide awake now, I'm going to take it back," he said matter-of-factly with a slight grunt, swinging the heavy fur coat over his left shoulder. "I have to leave for a mission now, but I'll be back in the late afternoon and we'll talk more then, Princess," he stated seriously, turning to reconnect his eyes with Mirajane's. "Maybe," he then added after a short pause. "It might be later." He then turned to walk away, but paused again. This time, when he turned to look back in her direction, his eyes once again lingered on her lower half. His jaw tightened and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in a serious manner, but once his eyes flickered over to Mirajane's still staring sapphire ones that had remained on him, a few seconds later and all his elusive emotions quickly melted into obvious mild irritation.

"Don't talk much, huh?" he scoffed lightly. "Well, I'm sure you're starving, so help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen. For giving me a slightly interesting night, it's free," he sarcastically added with the roll of his dark eyes. "You've been knocked out for almost a total of twenty-six hours," he ended with a tired sigh.

"_What?_" Mirajane abruptly said, having finally found some decent words to say, apart from the troubling ones running through her mind.

"Yeah," Laxus curtly said with a slight shrug. "Drug knocked you out hard."

"What time is it now?" she asked.

Laxus glanced at the grandfather clock Mirajane had yet to notice on the other side of the room. When her sapphire blue eyes followed his gaze and spotted the face she found much more pleasant than the one that stood before her, her eyes widened only a little.

"5:42…" she said quietly.

Laxus heaved out another sigh, running his right hand through his blown back, tousled golden hair. He stared at the time for a moment. "Alright, well, I really have to get going, so…don't cause too much trouble while I'm gone. For now, avoid going outside. Some of my crew is going to stop by and check on you, so don't…_attack_ anyone," he carefully said, narrowing his eyes at her. Before Mirajane could utter a word, he was gone, and the sound of what sounded like the front door closing echoed back to her. His scent lingered in the air, however, providing evidence that he once existed in the same space as her.

Mirajane remained where she was for the next little while. Her mind for once was blank. Her sapphire blue eyes could only stare at the polished, dark wooden floor. When she finally found the will to move, due to her left leg falling uncomfortably numb, she made a weak attempt at readjusting her sitting position, only to give up and move her left leg enough so that the blood could flow back into her now stinging leg. Her body was surprisingly quite sore and completely drained of energy. She let out a deep sigh. She didn't even want to _think_ about the events that had just taken place. She just wanted to lie down and go back to sleep. Deal with the problem later. But she wasn't even tired, and his lingering presence was now daunting her, filling her empty mind with the image of his smirking face.

"I could hardly tell what he was even thinking," Mirajane softly grumbled as her uneasy eyes mindlessly drifted over her pale legs that cut through the high slit of her navy blue dress. She blinked. Then she leaned over, her right hand lightly grazing the large bruises on her legs. Somehow, she hadn't noticed the apparent colors of violet, purple, and blue, clearly splotching her pale skin until that very moment. She vaguely remembered that she may have been brutally kicked in the legs every now and then by the suited men in the dark alleyway; her responses to those attacks were the stabbing of her three-inch heels, however. Her face twisted into a delicate frown.

_Was it the bruises he was actually staring at?_

However, before Mirajane could think any deeper into the topic, her stomach let out a loud complaint. She sighed, and assembling her pitiful strength, she somehow managed to her feet. She closed her eyes briefly, and reopening them with a new resolution, a small determined smile framed her face. First things first: she needed to find food. With that resolve in mind, she picked up her heels, unsure whether or not it was necessary to take them along, but just in case, she let them dangle off of her fingers by the ankle strap, and lightly walked barefooted across the hard floor to the very doorway she had found Laxus standing in.

When Mirajane stood in the doorway with her clear sapphire blue eyes peering up at the top of the doorframe, she reached up a hand. Despite the slight tweaks of pain that pulled in her slim arms down to her legs, she stretched up further, going up onto her tiptoes. She jumped. She jumped again. Her hands managed to only grasp at air. She pouted a little, then looking down at her heels and back up to the top of the doorframe. When her stomach made another complaint, she sighed. _Another time. _

Upon cautiously stepping outside of the room she had become vaguely acquainted with, Mirajane stopped. The same early morning light she had woken up to shaded everything before her in a gloomy blue. Every shape was an unclear shadow or silhouette, but it couldn't hide the grandeur of it all. In front of her were polished wooden railings, and just beyond them, a vast blue open space like the ocean with a single, large crystal chandelier, glimmering like a thousand blue stars, hanging high from the domed ceiling. The balcony red-carpeted walkway that she currently stood on, surrounding the large foyer, outlined the large space on an elevated level; however, due to the extra space carved into the grand entrance, the walkway had two dead ends. Across from her on the other side of the room was a grand staircase, and where she stood, she seemed to be at the corner of the room.

This place, Mirajane was in, was clearly more superior to the Dulcis Mendacium Villa. It certainly seemed fit to be a billionaire's palace. She walked up to the railing, setting a hand on the smooth wood and followed it to the staircase. There were a lot of closed doors, which she had plans to venture into later, but for now, she needed to keep her focus. As she walked the long pathway to the stairs, she couldn't help but feel that there was something so incredibly odd bout being inside the immense mansion to the extent that it almost felt a little eerie. It was lacking something. It had a different feeling compared to the Dulcis Mendacium Villa, and it certainly didn't feel anything near to what her shoddy condominium she shared with her siblings felt like.

Despite Mirajane's current circumstances, she preferred that old condominium. It was full of memories and it was warm. And most importantly, that's where her two younger siblings were. But inside of this large mansion, it just felt cold and empty. Was this even a home being currently used? Or was it a place just to keep her until…_until what? _She really hoped Laxus would come back for her sooner than later. "Maybe" better not mean never.

Mirajane stopped walking. She was now standing at the bottom of the staircase. The glazed cream-swirled marble floor felt cool to her feet, making her exposed shoulders and arms feel a little colder. In the blue illuminated room, she took a glance around the foyer. There was a large window above the double doors in the entryway and an empty large coat hanger; but apart from that and all the closed doors, the room was empty. There weren't any paintings, pictures, plants, furniture—_nothing._

Eventually, Mirajane did find her way to the kitchen and settled for some slices of bread and jam. She had been a little concerned there wouldn't be any eating utensils, let alone anything to actually _eat_, but much to her relief, she discovered that furniture and other things actually _did _exist within the spacious mansion through her lonesome wander to the kitchen. Along with an extravagant dining room, she had walked through a dark lounge room that had a large brass horn record player. When she finished eating, she found her way back to the foyer and went straight to the intricate gold-designed double doors, placed directly across the entryway. These doors had caught her eye the moment she had spotted them. Something about them reminded her of magic.

She placed her hands on both curled golden door handles, momentarily trying to make sense of the intricate gold swirls on the glossy wooden door, before she took in a deep breath and pushed both doors open.

What Mirajane found beyond those large double doors was an enchanting grand ballroom. Upon entering the room, the echoes from the quiet _pats _her feet made danced around the empty space, filling it with soft whispers. Directly in front of her was a large window wall with two sets of glass doors that led to what appeared to be a colorful flower garden and a paved patio walkway. When she looked to her right and left, she found a never-ending reflection of herself in the large, gold-framed mirrors. She paused at the sight of herself. She didn't look incredible, but she didn't look _too _awful, either. The curls in her starlight white hair had kept their shape fairly well, but her bangs were slightly losing their form; her makeup wasn't surprisingly smudged too badly, but her eyes did seem darker.

Mirajane spent a few extra minutes merely standing there in the center of the room, staring at the distant reflection of just herself holding her heels. Her lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. In the end, she had to force her eyes away from her own image to release herself from the dark, creeping thoughts that had started to pour out into her reality. When she spotted the two pairs of doors placed outside the mirrors on both sides of the room, she wasted no time and ventured into all four entrances. What she discovered behind the doors to the right were two separate lounge rooms with bathrooms; the doors to the left, one being swinging doors, led back to the kitchen and dining room. When she looked up at the ceiling, there were four small flower-patterned chandeliers and a main large one in the center hanging close to the gold-designed ceiling. All along the room, much like the foyer, was another balcony walkway, which lead to a white-stoned balcony outside; there were double doors above the ones she had entered, and above where the mirrors hung were another pair of double doors.

As Mirajane spun in circles, making her way back to the center of the beautifully carved room, lost in awe, she stopped when she was facing the large window wall. The gloomy blue lighting was starting to fade to a much brighter shade, and the clear sky outside had a slim line of bright orange peaking the horizon, bringing to life all the glittering gold patterns on the ceiling and marble floor. She was completely captivated. Wouldn't it have been nice if her everyday reality could've been like this from the start? Rather than dancing in a dark room for monsters and money, she could've dressed up like a princess and enjoyed a make-believe fantasy with her siblings. She lifted up one of her scuffed, midnight blue heels, recalling the fairytale where the magic-turned princess had lost one of her glass heels and the charming prince searched all across the kingdom just to find the one girl he had fallen in love with all too easily. _It was just one dance_…wasn't it?

Mirajane allowed a tiny, hopeless lopsided smile to grace her features. So far, within the grand houses she's had the opportunity to enter into, all have had ballrooms. If she recalled this correctly, that night at the Rosa Nera, Jellal had mentioned something about a grand dance. The Rosa Nera itself was one large, grand ballroom. Did they end up dancing that night at the Rosa Nera? She let her hand holding the single night blue heel drop to her side. "The rich sure love to dance," she quietly said, almost whispering.

"_That_, they certainly do."

Mirajane gasped and whipped around, instinctively throwing one of her heels at the peculiar man standing a few feet away from her.

"_Ow—!"_

This was the _second_ _time_ that morning someone barged in on her lonely conversation, making her heart jump into her throat! Wasn't it way too early in the day for this?—she was ready to throw her other heel when—

"_W-w-wait! Freeze! Drop that—that heel!—You fiend!" _the man cried out at her, placing a hand on the hilt of—_of his sword?!_

Mirajane froze with wide eyes, staring at the long, black-cased item, hanging off of the strange man's brown leather belt. Her sapphire eyes briefly looked the slim man's figure up and down. He was wearing fairly regal clothing that consisted of a burgundy double-breasted long coat, with a puffy white cravat necktie tucked inside; he had on black pants and some knee-length white boots. His hair was a bright spring green and seemed to go past his waist. Once again, another man's hair was shockingly longer than Mirajane's. She couldn't help but cock an eyebrow up at the sight before her.

"I'm sorry," Mirajane began politely. "But _what _are you? Are you some…some…some sort of knight? Guard?" she stammered out, absolutely baffled. _Is this what Laxus meant when he said he was going to send his "crew?"_ Did he have actual bodyguards or something?! Well, considering she was here on a mission to actually _kill _Laxus, it made sense, _but still_…

"Oh? No," the green-haired man simply answered. But then he paused. "Actually, yes, I think—I could be a knight. A guard of some sort… Of course, to the one and only, magnificent, strong, wonderful Laxus Dreyar," he added with a faithful salute.

Mirajane blinked and furrowed her eyebrows, clutching her remaining heel tightly. She couldn't tell how serious this man was being…

"Wha—_why_ are you looking at me like I'm crazy?" the man suddenly scoffed.

"What? I—" Mirajane began to apologize, but he quickly cut her off.

"It's because you don't revere Master Laxus the way I do," he went on.

"'Master?' Wha—?" she tried to say again.

"Typical. You pretty-faced women will never know him like _I _do," he continued.

"Pardon?" she said in disbelief. "We've only just me—"

"You women never see him as the great person he _truly _is…"

"Of course I don't—"

"Laxus Dreyar isn't just your typical billionaire. He's brave, heroic, handsome…"

"Okay, but…"

"This man is a _true _leader and hero. And he will soon take over the grand Fairy Tail once his grandfather lets him…"

"I'm sorry—you've lost me—"

"But a _girl _such as _yourself_ would never understand him!"

"I—"

"Especially after you did something so ferocious such as _hitting _my dear Master Laxus after he saved you!"

"I was just—"

"Yet he was still kind enough to let you stay in his sanctuary…"

"I never asked—"

"And you got to stay in his house for over twenty-four hours!"

"Where are you going with this?"

"_And _be carried by him!"

"That wasn't my choi—!"

"_And _he even let you use his fur coat!"

"Again, not my—"

"Yet, here you are, you _scandalous_ _girl_, disrespecting the amazing—"

"_I beg your pardon!"_

"—Laxus Dreyar!"

Mirajane was five seconds away from throwing her remaining heel at this crazy, spring green-haired man, but she persevered and finally sharply cut in: "Are you just _jealous?_!"

The man fell silent, staring at her wide-eyed. Horrified, really.

Mirajane stared back at him, just as confounded. She then sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I'm just really…confused and lost..." she apologized. "There's a lot of…_new _things I'm taking in." She honestly wasn't sure where she was going with this, but she was being honest. "This is also not how I imagined a guard to act," she muttered off to the side, still not even sure if that's what this man really was.

"I'm not actually a guard!" the man dejectedly shouted. Mirajane stared at him with pursed lips. He then sighed heavily, too. "Look, I'm sorry, as well. My actions may not have been in accord with the way Master Laxus would have handled things," he said reasonably, which Mirajane appreciated the apology. "I know what I said earlier, but I'm not technically a guard. I'm the leader of a group that focuses on assisting and protecting Master Laxus in his work. We're a _team," _he corrected. "I tried to make us official bodyguards, but Master Laxus wouldn't have it…" he muttered sadly.

"Okay," Mirajane slowly said with the nod of her head. She could tell the spring green-haired man was very…_passionate_. Which she didn't hate. It was actually a little refreshing to her. He seemed very pure and loyal.

"I'm here because Master Laxus told me to come and keep an eye on you," he went on to explain. "And _clearly_, he was right about that. You need to be supervised! Potentially touching things that aren't yours, and going places without permission—!"

"I was just curious!" Mirajane defended innocently. "I mean, it's such a big house, and there's not much I can do until Laxus comes back..." _And it's not like he told me I couldn't explore, _she thought passively.

"Well," the man started, finally taking his hand off of the hilt of his sword, "I suppose I can see your point there. Again, I'm sorry (_not really_), for any misunderstanding. It's just you sla—" he abruptly cleared his throat. "Here, let us start over. I am Freed Justine, the leader of a special, three-person team that aids Master Laxus in his work. It's called: Thunder God Tribe. What might your name be? She-demon?"

Mirajane bit her tongue, smiling sweetly. "No, _silly_!" she said, laughing it off. She couldn't give off any more bad impressions than she potentially already had. She already had her first strike by slapping Laxus. She was potentially earning her second one, curtesy to this Freed Justine. One more and maybe she really would be out. "My name is Mirajane," she said happily. Plus, she really didn't hate Freed. He truly did seem kind and genuine—maybe overly protective and praising of Laxus—but she could kind of understand his point of view if she thought about her siblings. If someone dare punched her little brother or sister, she would already be busy burying a dead body by now.

"Oh. _Mirajane_," Freed repeated. His mysterious blue eyes studied her face briefly before dropping to the ground. "Well, I suppose that's not _too_ far off from the one I—I…I'm sorry. I'm being very childish right now. Yes, um, in order to prove that I am one of Laxus' trusted allies, as well as provide a way we can pass time without getting _too _incredibly bored until he comes home, I can give you a tour of Master Laxus' mansion," he offered, now quite composed. "Because I know Master Laxus _so _well. More than most people, really," he of course had to add quite proudly.

This had to have been a form of passive-aggressive bragging.

Mirajane simply maintained her sweet smile. "All right!" she exclaimed, secretly keen on the idea of using this opportunity as a means of getting to know Laxus better. Maybe she'd be able to understand his words and actions from earlier that morning better—even if it was j_ust a little bit._ At this point, apart from all the surface knowledge, she just wanted to know something_ real _about Laxus because ever since the incident of that morning, there was an issue she had been pushing over and over again to the back of her mind, all because it surfaced grim thoughts she wasn't sure how to face. Unfortunately, however, Laxus was the center of that issue, and everything in this vast mansion hauled her thoughts back to him, so in the end, avoiding it was absolutely impossible.

Mirajane could hold a calm demeanor through any situation, but her heart would never have mercy on what was actually going on inside of her.

In actuality, she was nervous. So much to the point that she was _terrified_ for when Laxus would return. She wasn't actually able to eat so much as a single bite from the breakfast she had prepared an hour ago. She spent so much time staring at the strawberry jam-slathered bread that she finally got fed up with the sweet smell and ended up storing it in the large refrigerator for later. Her appetite had been completely devoured by her own fears.

She was scared.

She really had no idea what to do...

How was she supposed to act around Laxus in order to make him fall in love with her?

Or better yet: _How was she supposed to capture his attention and hold it?_

She was short on time, she was clueless, and she didn't understand him one bit. Especially not after what had happened that morning…

What if she wouldn't be able to keep his attention after this?

It might just become her last time ever talking to him again…_and that was unacceptable_.

.

Freed bent down and picked up the heel he had been savagely attacked with. After examining the slightly scuffed, strappy blue heel, he hesitantly gave it back to the starlight white-haired girl, mumbling, "Be careful with that" as he guided her out of the grand ballroom to start the tour. The girl, Mirajane, thanked him sweetly, flashing him a bright smile, and he stared at her a few seconds too long. He immediately caught himself then, having to turn his face away from her and quickly marched forward to the first closed door he perceived. "First off, we'll start over here…" Despite his pleasant voice, he was absolutely mortified by what he had just done. He could still feel it in his chest and the burn from the sudden rush of blood to his face.

And so, the extraordinary tour of Laxus' mansion began.

* * *

**Heh. I have purpose for everything that happens in this story. ;) For the most part.**

**Special thanks to you two guest reviewers!  
You guys are sweet. Thank you. :)**

****As always, to everyone, thanks so so much for reading and following the story! :D****


	10. Heavy

**8**

* * *

Freed was ridiculous. He so far proved that he knew every single room in Laxus' mansion by heart to the point that Mirajane was positive he could walk through this place with his eyes closed and have no problems; and not only that, he seemed to have a memory or story behind just about every single piece of furniture and item that existed. Every room they passed through, he always had something fond to say about Laxus, and the more he went on and on about how Laxus one time punched a hole in the training room out of frustration (_charming_) concerning a case where some millionaire's daughter had been abducted, or how when they were all looking for a specific book in the library, and Evergreen and Bickslow (the other two people a part of the Thunder God Tribe who were off on a special mission) had been using both the ladders, therefore, in order to grab this specific book on one of the higher shelves, Laxus resulted to picking him up to reach it, Mirajane couldn't help but smile.

Freed had so many memories in this mansion—enough to overflow through the roof. He probably didn't think this mansion felt so empty... Mirajane stared as Freed picked up a wooden pencil that had been resting on a large map of Magnolia with scribbles and small slanted handwriting placed in the center of the library room. He then proceeded to tell her how Laxus had snapped the pencil in half with one hand a while ago while pondering deeply over one of their cases when they were trying to figure out where the culprit could be hiding—the type of work they did was typically a high stress environment—_clearly. _But you see, the clear tape wrapped around the center of the pencil?—that was his doing. He fixed the pencil for Laxus. Freed smiled proudly at the pencil, like a loving father to his son, and giddily set it down before leading them out of the book-filled room.

Mirajane had to suppress a lighthearted giggle behind her hand as Freed practically skipped past her. He really loved Laxus, didn't he? Maybe if her goal wasn't to murder the one he dearly admired, she could genuinely become good friends with him. Her smile faded. He could be her first male friend…if only.

"And over here, we have the balcony overview of the grand ballroom…" Freed was saying as he opened two double doors not quite as beautifully designed as the ones just below. They were now on the second floor, having gone through all the rooms on the first floor and a few on the second floor, including the secret stairwell in the kitchen that lead to the emergency escape exit beneath the mansion, which lead to a camouflaged door behind some rose bushes in the flower garden out back. Mirajane wondered if he really should've been showing her something like that, considering he barely knew her and whether or not she was actually trustworthy, but she didn't say anything and accepted it as an honor. There was no need to nurture suspicion where it never once was.

"So, does Laxus ever hold dance parties here?" Mirajane asked as they approached the balcony railing. A soft smile pulled at her lips when she peered at the familiar room. The ballroom looked even more enchanting from up above with the sun now visible in the sky, shining its bright rays through the glass wall, illuminating bits and pieces of the large floral patterns on the ground. The stark orange that once lined the horizon had now faded up into the brightening blue of the sky, blending through a light shade of pink.

"Dance parties? Oh, no, not Master Laxus," Freed responded with the simple wave of his hand. "_Never._"

"No?" Mirajane queried, turning to look at the spring green-haired man beside her. _What a waste. _"Even though he has such a grand room for it… Does he not like to dance?"

"Oh, no—I'm pretty sure not," Freed confirmed. "This one time, I tried to ask him, and he flat-out rejected me!" he exasperatedly explained, turning to walk to the double doors on the left side of the room.

Mirajane blinked. "Oh…" was all she could utter, deciding to try and work around his biased reasoning. "But…he _can _dance, right?" she asked with knitted eyebrows, slowly following Freed down the long walkway. She had learned earlier that Laxus liked listening to rock music, and anyone who liked to listen to music had to have at least liked to dance to some degree, right? And rock music seemed like the perfect body-moving type of music. However, whether or not Laxus could dance wasn't really that important to her. She just wanted to know _something_ more about him. Anything would do—anything to get to know him just a little better—anything to soothe the heavy, sickening nerves in her stomach.

"Of course!" Freed reassured in a manner that made her question seem ludicrous. His voice ricocheted in the large room, reconfirming his own response. "Master Laxus can do _anything_. He can even defy the laws of electricity," he went on to say haughtily.

"What?" Mirajane said with a slight halt in her steps.

"Yes," Freed stated, not noticing how far behind she was getting as he proceeded down the marbled walkway. "You know, there is a reason…" he slowly said, turning to her—he abruptly paused, waiting for her to catch up—"as to why he's sometimes reckoned as, the Thunder Dragon. It's not just a fancy work title."

Mirajane's face contorted slightly and she dropped her gaze in thought, staring at her pale feet as they took slow, quiet steps against the cool floor. "Now that I think about it," she began to mumble, "I think I have read that nickname somewhere in the newspapers before…"

"Hm?" Freed hummed, and when Mirajane looked up, now fully caught up in his tracks, she found him with his head cocked a little, peering at her with curious eyes. "You're not that familiar with that name?" he asked, slightly surprised.

"Um…I…no?" Mirajane hesitantly said. The moment she declared her answer, though, as if a plug had been pulled, all her memories from the days prior flooded her mind, bringing her into remembrance that the Trimens _had _indeed cultivated her about something called, Thunder Dragon; it was supposedly a separate special branch under Fairy Tail that Laxus ran, as well as what Freed had said: it was a nickname given to the young billionaire. But she didn't know all of the details about it. Or, at least, she wanted to try and see if Freed would tell her something she didn't know…and she was simply trying to play off the fact that she lied about something that she blatantly indeed knew about. As if she could ever forget any of the relayed information attached to the over-animated acts of Ichiya, Hibiki, Ren, and Eve whenever they mentioned anything related to Laxus. The drug from two nights ago definitely had to have played a role in this brief memory lapse of hers—_how strong even was it? _

"Oh," Freed said thoughtfully, snapping Mirajane back to attention. "Well, I suppose if you aren't very _educated"—_she suppressed a grimace—"with the reasons why I say he can defy the laws of electricity, I guess you wouldn't understand him as, the Thunder Dragon. Huh…" he said with a snort. "This is a first for me—to meet someone who doesn't know Master Laxus to that small degree." He glanced briefly over at the large open space in the ballroom. "Well..." he slowly began, bringing his eyes back to her. He cleared his throat, turning around to open the double doors a few feet away from them. "I suppose I should help refine your knowledge on the one who saved your life," he stated, feigning slight insolence.

Despite his increase of arrogance (which honestly was just amusing at this point), Mirajane was now actually quite curious. The Trimens hadn't mentioned Laxus as one to "defy the laws of electricity" before…

"There have been several accounts—" Freed began—"note: quite an astonishing large amount, more than usual—where Master Laxus has survived severe electric shocks in not just his daily life, but out on the job, as well. It's really…" he paused momentarily, shaking his head, "quite _miraculous, _really. He…" he paused once more, going silent for a few seconds. "He should be dead."

Mirajane's attention piqued at the tone in his voice, and as she followed Freed into what appeared to be another lounge room, she tried to walk past him so she could see what his face looked like, but he turned his back to her. She pursed her lips before asking carefully: "When you say electric shocks, do you mean he's been struck by lightning, like…a lot? Or…?"

Freed shook his head. "No," he said, then glancing at her to reveal a completely calm expression. He seemed to silently be asking her if she wanted to see any more of the lounge room, to which she simply shook her head, and he nodded, leading them out of the fairly large room. "I mean, he _has _been struck by lightning several times," he continued to say, closing the doors gently, "but…you know, there are a lot more ways to be electrified than by having the heavens strike down upon you."

Freed drew out a long sigh as they walked to the pair of doors on the other side of the room. "I mean, it's really quite befitting, though," he said in a reasonable manner. "Master Laxus has that lightning scar on the right side of his face—one he's had since he was a teenager—I'm sure you've noticed—it's quite dashing, really. And for whatever reason, he seems to resonate well with electricity. No matter how dangerous."

Mirajane stared as Freed once again opened another set of double doors for her that morning, revealing yet another lounge room. "So, why is it Thunder _Dragon, _rather than Thunder _God?_" she asked attentively as she subconsciously followed the regally dressed man around the room.

"Ah, yes. Well, you see, the sort of work we do as a part of Fairy Tail isn't very safe, as you may already know," Freed said, glimpsing at her while he picked up a red pillow from off a cream-colored couch and fluffed it up. "And we deal with a lot of dangerous people. Obviously, where there's opposition, there's a clash, and where there's a clash, there's most often, if not always, a war of some sort. Fighting is never a simple task, as…" He gently set the pillow back on the couch, turning to eye her. "As I'm sure you're already aware of."

"Hmm…" Mirajane simply hummed, slowly turning on her heels and walking to edge of the chocolate brown lounge table, crouching down to touch it because _wow, wasn't it fascinating_! She pursed her lips as the weight of his stare pressed on her back. Freed probably would eternally hate her for slapping Laxus, huh? But no need to give him time to question how she learned how to fight, so—"So, during your guys'…combats," she casually went on, ignoring his silent accusation, "does Laxus ever _use _electricity during your…?" She turned to glance at him then.

Freed nodded his head. "Yes, if the opportunity ever arises or presents itself. Master Laxus does seem to have a liking to using it, at least," he answered with a slight twist to his facial expression—_concern_. Mirajane pursed her lips slightly as she watched confidence and admiration quickly cloak his now smug smiling face. "And he's become well-known for it. There have been several instances where, well, I've unfortunately never witnessed it in person—but, from the opposing side, they often remark in their official statements that just before they are knocked out, they see something like a dragon. An electric dragon coming at them—which, of course, it's Master Laxus they're referring to. He's really quite amazing, you know…

"Which is why I've taken the liberty of calling his supportive group, the one I'm in charge of, Thunder God Tribe. He deserves to be called both," he simply said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Okay…" Mirajane slowly said, coming to a stand. There was a body mirror in the far corner of the room, which she briefly contemplated on whether or not she wanted to look at her reflection again, but thinking better of it, she turned to face Freed instead. "So, your 'supportive group'…" she began to say, locking fierce sapphire eyes with his, seeming to catch him off-guard. "It's really just a group to protect Laxus, isn't it? It's not a group he ever asked to be made. You made it without any consent to what he'd probably never ask or say, right? It's just your way of being protective in the most convenient way possible for the both of you."

Freed opened and closed his mouth several times, ultimately leaving it on the latter. Then, when he opened it back up, all he could say was: "So? It's not a bad thing, is it?"_—so he hadn't consulted that factor at all with Laxus…why not? _

Mirajane simply shook her head. "No, of course not. That just means you're a really good friend, Freed," she said with a warm smile, all the while, wondering what kind of friendship Freed exactly had with the infamous billionaire. She originally didn't think it was a friendship since Freed attached "Master" whenever he addressed Laxus, but based on the things he shared with her about past experiences, as well as the fact that Freed seemed to use politer language, it seemed fairly obvious.

"I—" Freed then began to say defiantly, but stopped. "Well, I—of course I'm a good friend to Master Laxus! After all, he does so much for us and this region. He's the strongest person I know, and…" he trailed off upon really looking at Mirajane's face. He clamped his mouth shut, and after a few moments, offered her a small gentle smile. "What I mean to say is...thank you."

That had to have been the most genuine thing Freed ever said to her without his gratitude pointing towards Laxus.

Mirajane dropped her gaze to her dangling heels in her right hand then, seizing the warm feeling forming in her chest. _What was she doing?_ At this rate, she might not really be able to ultimately follow through with killing or even hurting Laxus all because of _him_. She couldn't let Freed's compassion towards Laxus weaken her will. She also had very important people she held compassion for just as much as he did for Laxus—in fact, hers was _family!—_people she'd give the world for and so much _more. _Her grip on her heels subtly tightened. But that didn't mean Laxus wasn't family to Freed…_ugh—just stop!_ _Stop…reasoning…_ she pleaded to herself as she stood there silently in turmoil.

The only thing he was doing was making the sin she would commit a heavier burden—and that was something she could handle.

Freed suddenly clasped his hands together, making her eyes snap up. "Well, let us depart from here," he said, walking briskly out of the room. "We're done with the ballroom."

Mirajane stared after him for a moment, lightly nodding her head and following him out of the room.

When they were standing once again outside of the ballroom doors, this time, Freed shutting the glossy wooden doors, Mirajane's eyes wandered over to the remaining closed doors they had yet to venture to. A good few feet away, once you walked down to the end of the pathway and turned right to the adjacent walkway, there, the open door to the room Mirajane had started her journey from would be, and then further down the walkway, two remaining doors would be. _One of those had to have been Laxus' room._ Throughout the entire tour, they had yet come across a room that Freed specifically stated as Laxus' personal space, and when you were in the situation Mirajane was, it was hard to _not _be curious about the infamous billionaire's bedroom, even though she doubted Freed would let her see it. But there was a slight possibility, and she held her hopes on that.

"Okay," Freed said, breathing out the word. He looked past Mirajane's left shoulder and nodded his head briefly. "Well, I guess that, Miss Mirajane, marks the end of our little adventure. This was the last room I had need to show you in this tour."

Mirajane slowly nodded her head. "So what about those doors over there?" she asked, motioning with her head.

Freed's eyes flickered over in the direction of the remaining doors. "Ah, yes," he said stiffly. "The door on the same side as this guest bedroom—the one you were using—is Master Laxus' room. The one adjacent to it on the other wall is his personal office. And as much as I would love to, we will not impede on his personal areas," he stated with a sigh.

"Ah, I see," Mirajane lightly said, mildly disappointed. She stared at the two doors now officially invisibly titled, "Laxus'"—her very core of interest. Her deep blue eyes then drifted over to the bedroom she had woken up in.

There had been three other guest bedrooms they passed by on the other side of the second floor. Laxus could've easily put her in any of those, but he chose the room closest to his own. She wasn't sure if it was really anything she should put into speculation, but Laxus didn't come off as someone who did things carelessly. For the most part.

Based off of the things Freed had said throughout the tour, Laxus seemed just as serious as he looked. He didn't waste time, and he did things accordingly to his will without much care to what others thought. He was a hard-worker and faced challenges with full intent of ending in success. He was stubborn, but incredibly bold. In some ways, maybe one could say he was passionate about his work. Overall, he was a well-respected person. But there was something else, and Mirajane wasn't entirely sure because it was just a feeling she had and all her perspective, but it kind of just seemed like Laxus disliked…infirmity. A lot.

"Well," Freed began to say. "We have about two hours before noon, and I'm not going to lie, I'm not sure when Master Laxus will return," he stated with a sigh. "But for now, I still have some work to do in the library regarding a current case we are working on, so…" He then stepped aside, allowing Mirajane to go before him. "Let us head over there. I don't want you to be by yourself, and Master Laxus specifically told me to keep an eye on you. If you will, please," he pressed, initiating her to start walking.

Mirajane complied, resisting the urge to look back at the leering, remaining closed doors as they walked the short distance to the library in silence.

For the next little while, Mirajane sat in a large black chair behind a wide work desk at the far end of the book-filled room, flipping through ancient pages of different old books that caught her attention, all while Freed busied himself in front of the map of Magnolia placed in the center of the room, pacing back and forth every now and then, muttering things to himself, rushing here and there, and pulling out large scrolls of maps from a charted bookshelf with dates and name places. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't interested in what the spring green-haired man was doing, and it's not like he specifically told her that she wasn't allowed to ask questions on the case he was working on, but the air around him once he started working gave her the impression that she should wait before bothering him. So she waited…and waited…and waited…until finally—

"What's this?" Mirajane asked, peering over Freed's shoulder as he compared a map of tubes of some sort to the lightly colored map of Magnolia.

Freed's body jolted and the pencil he was holding fell out of his hand. He glanced her way, standing up straight with a heavy sigh.

"Or are you not supposed to share this sort of information to outsiders?" Mirajane asked with a small smile, stepping around him to look at the maps better while he ran his hands down his face and muttered a tired "No." She furrowed her eyebrows after reading the inscription at the top of the faded map of tubes. "This…is a map of the old sewage system…dated fifty years ago…" she mumbled gently. Why did that sound familiar?

"Yes, it is," Freed said, picking back up his dropped pencil. "It hasn't been used for the past forty-eight years. They blocked it off because of certain incidents that kept reoccurring. Certain _deaths, _I should say."

"But…" Mirajane drawled on. "It was meant as something for safety—it was supposed to be used as an emergency escape passage…" she finished slowly, staring at the map with hard eyes.

"Oh? You seem to know your history, Miss Mirajane. Not very many people actually know about this," Freed stated, mildly impressed. He adjusted the pencil in his hand and pointed to certain areas on the map, comparing it to the map of Magnolia, saying: "You see? This is where the Caldia Cathedral should be. That's where one main entrance, I believe, exists. This bigger tube over here should be where the Central Path is, and over here…"

"Why are you looking at this map, Freed?" Mirajane abruptly asked, straightening up to look at the entirety of both maps. In reality, she didn't know much of Magnolia's history. She never had the opportunity to go to school like a normal child. And while she did try her best to study and create a system for her siblings that was similar to being homeschooled, progress slowed down immensely once Lisanna became sick. Around that time was when she really became cultivated with the red-light district, and before she knew it, she became a part of it. There were a lot of negative aspects in that tainted part of her life, and never did she believe there would be a day that something good would come from her obtained knowledge of that world.

Her eyes drifted over to the south end of Magnolia, quickly perceiving the lack of detail in that specific portion of the map. Her lips pursed. Rosington was already a dead town. She shouldn't be surprised that it no longer existed to Magnolia. They didn't even have the building for the Roxanne _La _Sanguine drawn on the map. There was just a large, empty, outlined space to represent the red-light district. So that's how everyone must've perceived her and her siblings' existence—_they didn't exist. _

"Well…I presume it wouldn't hurt to tell you about this case," Freed hesitantly said, completely oblivious to how heavy her heart had just become. "It's not like it's a secret or anything, but we are encouraged to keep discussions on our accomplished missions within Fairy Tail, and discussions regarding our cases within our teams, and unless absolutely necessary, we can talk about our cases with outsiders," he explained. "It's a safety policy, obviously, but…because I don't feel like you'd be a hindrance to our case, and somehow maybe you could be a benefit…I'll share a little bit."

And so, Freed gave Mirajane a brief, careful explanation.

Apparently, there was a notorious gang called, Eisenwald, that had recently been succeeding in robberies throughout Fiore, and it seemed like their next strike would happen in Magnolia. Based on information they had gathered so far, Freed had managed to come to the conclusion that the gang would be using the old sewage system as a means to travel and ultimately escape. Since they had been robbing from appliance stores to jewelry stores, and clothing stores to banks, it was unpredictable exactly what their motive was.

"But this week on Thursday, they'll be holding the first round of the Miss Fiore beauty pageant at Central Path. It'll be starting in the evening, and I believe that's when they'll strike," Freed stated, folding his arms. "It's one of the main, biggest events in Fiore, and there will be tons of people attending—what I believe to be the perfect, ultimate distraction for any sort of robbery to take place."

Mirajane slowly nodded her head, unsure how she wanted to try and convince Freed that, no, Wednesday might be the more "perfect" night since that was when the robbery would actually, potentially take place, without mentioning she just so happened to overhear a conversation she wasn't supposed to during her last day at Roxanne _La _Sanguine, when she was helping a friend find her earing... Her eyes widened—_Erza! _And without thinking, her hand shot to her chest—_was the business card Jellal had given still in_…?

She momentarily glimpsed over at Freed, who had a slightly alarmed expression on his face.

Mirajane let out an uneasy laugh—"Isn't that too obvious, though?" she abruptly questioned, casually shifting her hand to touching her hair and twirling it around her dainty fingers.

"Obvious?" Freed echoed. The alarm was still evident in his expression and his eyes were clearly having a difficult time concentrating on her face—therefore, still on his mind.

"Yeah…" Mirajane slowly, yet loudly said, wracking her brain for a plausible reason_—this was the worst._ "Like…why not the day before? Why not Wednesday?" she suggested, leaning against the table of maps with the hand she had been using to play with her hair.

"Wednesday?" Freed echoed once again, his focus trailing from her hand to the maps.

"Yeah…I mean just think about it…" Mirajane went on, relaxing just a little. "Sure, the night of the Miss Fiore beauty pageant would be perfect. Ideal, even." She pursed her lips and watched Freed's movements warily. "But, don't you think that's too…too predictable? Too…_obvious? _Eisenwald probably isn't full of airheaded people if they've managed to make it this far. What they're stealing will still be there on Wednesday, too. Probably. Plus, you don't even know what they're planning on stealing next…" _Not that she knew, either—_in fact, she didn't even know what she was saying. She was just trying to divert him away from her at this point. She wasn't even sure if the things she heard that fateful day were applicable to the current case at hand—despite the connections—it could've always been for a different heist.

And maybe it already took place.

Or plans changed.

She could be blowing her cover.

Mirajane timidly looked over at Freed. He had been silent for a while, staring at the maps, but at that moment, he began to nod his head.

"I see your point, and I did consider that…" He sighed. "But Eisenwald has been following a pattern with the days of their crimes, and to be honest, I really don't know what their ringleader is thinking, but I do know one thing, and it's that patterns are always hard to break," he stated attentively.

Mirajane bit her bottom lip, nodding her head in understanding. Of course he would've already considered the things she had said. Why did she even try again? Still, she said softly: "It never hurt to take extra precaution, though…right?"

Freed blinked, pulling his eyes to look over at her in consideration.

Mirajane stared back while a thick silence began to seep into the space between them, making her start wishing she'd never said anything to begin with—but then she remembered something. A while ago, didn't the pressure in the air grow abnormally heavier? She blinked, timidly shifting her gaze forward to where the entrance of the library was. Her heart hitched in her throat and the anxiety in her empty stomach inflated—_she really wasn't ready yet._

Freed was right, though: Patterns were hard to break.

As Mirajane stared at Laxus leaning against the doorway of the library, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia, her eyes were suddenly drawn to the smeared smudges of black on his white pants. Where did those come from? Better yet, what had he been doing to come back this late? Or was this considered early?

"Master Laxus!" Freed suddenly exclaimed. "I didn't realize—h-how long were you standing there?" he asked as he stepped around the broad table and headed over to the large man.

Meanwhile, Mirajane busied herself by searching the room for a clock—it was something she had been meaning to do, as well as a distraction for her ogling eyes. As Freed's animated voice bounced all over the low hum of Laxus', seeming to come closer to where she stood, making the butterflies in her stomach fly up into her head, scattering her thoughts, she finally spotted a fancy pendulum clock on one of the middle shelves of a bookshelf to her right. It read a little past 4:00 P.M. She inhaled deeply to let out a big sigh of stress, only to do just the opposite by intoxicating her lungs with his familiar scent.

With a thousand frantic thoughts streaming through her tipsy mind, Laxus walked past Mirajane to the large desk, sighing heavily, and in that single blow of air, all her thoughts cleared away. She blinked, staring at his large form with his back facing her. He was wearing his large fur coat draped over his shoulders, making it difficult for her to see what he was doing, but from the sounds that cut through the library, he was crumpling paper up.

"Master Laxus," Freed began to say, "do you—"

"Not right now, Freed," Laxus cut off sharply.

"I understand," Freed humbly responded. "But late—"

"Freed." Laxus then turned, giving Freed a heavy gaze.

Freed simply bowed his head, taking a step back.

Mirajane suppressed a frown, watching as Freed regained his poise and held a silent expression. She was at a loss for words, and just as she was about to turn and return her gaze to Laxus, he called out to her, making her quicken the process and snap her head over to face him.

"How are you feeling? You look better," he said, surprising her with his words. He was now facing forward, leaning against the work desk with his arms folded and his dark eyes resting on her.

"I'm…fine…" Mirajane slowly said, noting the extreme lack of joy in his face. There was something he was upset about…or maybe he just always had an unpleasant face. She wasn't sure which one she hoped it was because they both seemed awful, but she sensed it was more emotions rather than personality that was playing a role in the excessively thick air around him.

Laxus stared at Mirajane for a hard moment before grunting: "Great. Now we can finally send you home. Who are your parents?"

Once again, Mirajane was taken aback by his words. She was mostly shocked because she genuinely thought they would be talking more than this—or at least about something else—like what happened two nights ago?—rather than about getting her back home this soon. It almost made her feel…disappointed? Or rather like…she already_ failed_.

"I…don't have any parents," she quietly said, feeling her heart drop. "I live by myself." Her heart dropped even further at the revival of that last realization.

Laxus' eyebrows furrowed with the slightest movement. He then cleared his throat, saying: "All right. Then where do you live?"

"Live?" Mirajane echoed. She felt completely hollow with nothing but pain and panic filling her insides. She didn't know her address. Laxus was already sending her home. Was this rejection? She had no idea! The Black Dragon said he would take care of everything, but at this rate, how exactly was even _he _supposed to overcome this? _Charm. _Be charming. _Ugh!_—but it's not like she could make any real moves with Freed standing right there! What was she supposed to do?!

Laxus leaned back a little, tilting his head up as he released another heavy sigh. "Do you remember where you live?" he asked. He didn't sound too irritated…yet.

Mirajane pursed her lips, doing her best to cool her head. For now, she just needed to worry about doing the things she could do…_which was what?_ She still wasn't sure how to act around Laxus, and she could hardly remember the roads the men in the striped suits took when they drove her to Rosa Nera. If they tried to retrace the roads, she probably would get them lost.

"Perhaps, do you know the name of your residence?" Freed suddenly asked, causing Mirajane to look over in his direction. He had a gentle look on his face that magically helped pacify some of her nerves.

"Oh. Yes!—it's the Dulcis Mendacium Villa," she said, "or otherwise known as…"

"The Dul'Men Villa," Laxus finished, pulling her attention back to him.

"Yes…" she had started to say, but the look on his face took her voice away. Somehow, it looked graver than before, and to top things off, there was a sudden light gasp behind her. She hesitantly looked back over at Freed, whose facial expressions were much easier to read.

"That…" Freed had started to say. "Master Laxus, is that…"

Mirajane's face contorted and she glanced between the two men in the room. She didn't feel good at all, and the fact that she still had yet to eat something proper wasn't helping at all.

"That's what it seems like," Laxus lowly mumbled. He seemed to be thinking for a few seconds before leaning forward a little, calling out: "Hey, Princess, is there anyone you've recently had bad relations with?"

Mirajane blinked at Laxus. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, now really confused.

"Any recent breakups? Over-obsessive boyfriends? Jealous rivals?" he asked all too casually, causing her confusion to sink deeper. "You know," he shrugged, the slightest of a grim smile coolly displayed on his face, "people of that sort."

_No!—I do not _know! was what she wanted to shout, but…this had to have been the most riveted Mirajane had ever seen Laxus in a conversation with her. She was thunderstruck. She really wasn't sure if she should be elated or concerned—heck, she didn't know anything when it came to him!

"I, um—no…?" she finally responded, briefly looking over at Freed because he seemed to be the only person she understood.

"No boyfriend?" Freed then asked, making her eyebrows pinch together even further. "No current courter?"

"Oh, ew—no!" she instantly retorted with a small scoff, briefly remembering Rupus Matchinski's insufferable attempts that she was sure were his last, but she clamped her mouth shut, quickly catching herself.

"Really?" Freed asked in bewildered disbelief.

Mirajane gaped at him in shock. "No," she wisped out, shaking her head. _Where was this going?!_

"So, there are no people you can think of who have come to hate you?" Laxus then cut in, seeming to share a similar disbelief. Mirajane could only stare at him, displaying the same confusion she hadn't been able to shake ever since the conversation decided to go down _this _path.

"I don—_"_

"No one you can think of who would want to kill you?"

Mirajane froze at that, staring into Laxus' hard eyes. His face was completely serious then, and after a few moments of them unmoving in that silent state, he dropped his head, closing his eyes and releasing another heavy sigh. All that could be heard afterwards was the slight ticking noise from the golden pendulum clock, and a few more moments of silence passed by.

When Mirajane finally spoke, calling out his name, her voice was so soft and small that it was a wonder he even heard her. When he looked up at her, all the tension left in her body had completely vanished, leaving her feeling like a tangled mess. "Can you please tell me what's going on?" she quietly asked.

Laxus stared at her a moment longer before straightening his composure a little and finally saying: "At 3:30 this morning, the Dul'Men Villa was burned to the ground. It's been classified as arson. We don't know who did it, and we weren't sure of any victims, but…I guess that's been confirmed now."

"No…" Mirajane could barely utter. All the horror in the world was trapped behind her sapphire blue eyes as she stared blindly forward.

"This is the emergency case you had to report to early this morning, wasn't it?" Freed asked, stepping forward a bit.

Laxus simply nodded his head with a solemn grunt.

"Then this means that…" Freed looked over at Mirajane. "She has no home to return to."

"Unfortunately, that's what it seems like," Laxus said with a heavy sigh.

"Then…" and their words blurred out.

Mirajane's chest felt oddly heavy. She could hardly believe Laxus' words, but…she couldn't deny the reality behind them. Not as her focus went to the black smudges on his pants. That large house she barely resided in for a week was really…_really_…_gone_. Just like that. All of those new memories she had managed to create inside that white place…she really actually had started to come to love some of those moments. Her eyes started to burn as the pressure in her chest began to rise. Surely, this couldn't have been the Black Dragon's doing…_or was it?_ Her eyes darkened as something obscure grasped her heart and entire being. _He did say he would always be watching. _And if that was true, then he would know her whereabouts. But the Dulcis Mendacium Villa was his own house—granted he may have owned many, people didn't just go burning down their own things! Especially when it _cost fortunes_. And what good would it do her to have her place of living suddenly taken away? The only thing she could think of was that it would potentially… She halted at that thought. _Would he really go that far just to have her accomplish his desires? _Warm streams began to trail down her cheeks.

"You've got to be kidding me…" she whispered as she sank even further into that dark grip.

* * *

**T****hank you so so much for the support and taking time to read this! :D  
Next chapter should be fun. Maybe. ;) My opinions sometimes suck, so.  
**


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